1 Something in the gesture told him that his sister was dying.
2 Nothing was gone from the room except his mother and his sister.
3 His sister, conscious of having been robbed of something, had set up a feeble wail.
4 At this moment his mother was sitting in some place deep down beneath him, with his young sister in her arms.
5 He did not remember his sister at all, except as a tiny, feeble baby, always silent, with large, watchful eyes.
6 Then with a sudden swift spring he had snatched the piece of chocolate out of his sister's hand and was fleeing for the door.
7 In the end his mother broke off three-quarters of the chocolate and gave it to Winston, giving the other quarter to his sister.
8 At every meal she would beseech him not to be selfish and to remember that his little sister was sick and also needed food, but it was no use.
9 His tiny sister, too young to understand what the game was about, had sat propped up against a bolster, laughing because the others were laughing.
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 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.
12 She was carrying his baby sister--or perhaps it was only a bundle of blankets that she was carrying: he was not certain whether his sister had been born then.
13 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.
14 He would cry out with rage when she stopped ladling, he would try to wrench the saucepan and spoon out of her hands, he would grab bits from his sister's plate.
15 For hours at a time she would sit almost immobile on the bed, nursing his young sister, a tiny, ailing, very silent child of two or three, with a face made simian by thinness.
16 A handsome, tough-looking boy of nine had popped up from behind the table and was menacing him with a toy automatic pistol, while his small sister, about two years younger, made the same gesture with a fragment of wood.
17 They remembered a million useless things, a quarrel with a workmate, a hunt for a lost bicycle pump, the expression on a long-dead sister's face, the swirls of dust on a windy morning seventy years ago: but all the relevant facts were outside the range of their vision.
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