Oi 'm dommed if Oi care who owns the rock." The two men sat in silence.

Burke indifferently chewing on his quid.
Winston shifted the revolver into his left hand, and began slowly tracing lines, and marking distances, on the back of an old envelope.
The motionless foreman steadily watched him through cautiously lowered lashes, holding the lamp in his hat perfectly steady.

Slowly, with no other muscle moving, both his hands stole upward along his body; inch by inch attaining to a higher position without awakening suspicion.
His half-concealed eyes, as watchful as those of a cat, gleamed feverishly beneath his hat-brim, never deserting Winston's partially lowered face.

Then suddenly his two palms came together, the sputtering flame of the lamp between them..