1 Winston was dreaming of his mother.
2 His mother told him not to be greedy.
3 His mother was quite ready to give him more than his share.
4 His mother, in her slow, dreamy way, was following a long way behind them.
5 He must, he thought, have been ten or eleven years old when his mother had disappeared.
6 He remembered his mother's statuesque body bending over the gas ring to stir at something in a saucepan.
7 At this moment his mother was sitting in some place deep down beneath him, with his young sister in her arms.
8 Between meals, if his mother did not stand guard, he was constantly pilfering at the wretched store of food on the shelf.
9 When his father disappeared, his mother did not show any surprise or any violent grief, but a sudden change came over her.
10 His tiny sister, clinging to her mother with both hands, exactly like a baby monkey, sat looking over her shoulder at him with large, mournful eyes.
11 Winston and his mother and father found themselves a place on the floor, and near them an old man and an old woman were sitting side by side on a bunk.
12 He could not remember what had happened, but he knew in his dream that in some way the lives of his mother and his sister had been sacrificed to his own.
13 In the dream he had remembered his last glimpse of his mother, and within a few moments of waking the cluster of small events surrounding it had all come back.
14 All this he seemed to see in the large eyes of his mother and his sister, looking up at him through the green water, hundreds of fathoms down and still sinking.
15 The thing that now suddenly struck Winston was that his mother's death, nearly thirty years ago, had been tragic and sorrowful in a way that was no longer possible.
16 His mother's memory tore at his heart because she had died loving him, when he was too young and selfish to love her in return, and because somehow, he did not remember how, she had sacrificed herself to a conception of loyalty that was private and unalterable.
17 The dream had also been comprehended by--indeed, in some sense it had consisted in--a gesture of the arm made by his mother, and made again thirty years later by the Jewish woman he had seen on the news film, trying to shelter the small boy from the bullets, before the helicopter blew them both to pieces.
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