The voice from the telescreen was still pouring forth its tale of prisoners and booty and slaughter, but the shouting outside had died down a little. The waiters were turning back to their work. One of them approached with the gin bottle. Winston, sitting in a blissful dream, paid no attention as his glass was filled up. He was not running or cheering any longer.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 68 | 2019-02-03 05:25:30 | 156.48 | 98% |