1 In the afternoon hush the volume of sound was startling.
2 Julia uttered a tiny sound, a sort of squeak of surprise.
3 Winston became aware of silence, as one becomes aware of a new sound.
4 There was a sound of trampling boots below, inside the house and outside.
5 Julia woke at the sound, stretched herself luxuriously, and got out of bed.
6 From below came the familiar sound of singing and the scrape of boots on the flagstones.
7 Then a door banged, seeming to cut off the smell as abruptly as though it had been a sound.
8 But the woman sang so tunefully as to turn the dreadful rubbish into an almost pleasant sound.
9 From somewhere far away there floated the faint shouts of children: in the room itself there was no sound except the insect voice of the clock.
10 What was slightly horrible, was that from the stream of sound that poured out of his mouth it was almost impossible to distinguish a single word.
11 He had got together a big bunch and was smelling their faint sickly scent when a sound at his back froze him, the unmistakable crackle of a foot on twigs.
12 You had to live--did live, from habit that became instinct--in the assumption that every sound you made was overheard, and, except in darkness, every movement scrutinized.
13 They seemed to possess some kind of instinct which told them several seconds in advance when a rocket was coming, although the rockets supposedly travelled faster than sound.
14 His whole mind and body seemed to be afflicted with an unbearable sensitivity, a sort of transparency, which made every movement, every sound, every contact, every word that he had to speak or listen to, an agony.
15 Any sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it, moreover, so long as he remained within the field of vision which the metal plaque commanded, he could be seen as well as heard.
16 Every citizen, or at least every citizen important enough to be worth watching, could be kept for twenty-four hours a day under the eyes of the police and in the sound of official propaganda, with all other channels of communication closed.
17 It seemed to him that he knew exactly what it felt like to sit in a room like this, in an arm-chair beside an open fire with your feet in the fender and a kettle on the hob; utterly alone, utterly secure, with nobody watching you, no voice pursuing you, no sound except the singing of the kettle and the friendly ticking of the clock.
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