typeracer

The circle of the mask was large enough now to shut out the vision of anything else. The wire door was a couple of handspans from his face. The rats knew what was coming now. One of them was leaping up and down, the other, an old scaly grandfather of the sewers, stood up, with his pink hands against the bars, and fiercely sniffed the air. Winston could see the whiskers and the yellow teeth.