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.' But that was merely an intellectual decision, taken because he knew that he ought to take it. He did not feel it. In this place you could not feel anything, except pain and foreknowledge of pain. Besides, was it possible, when you were actually suffering it, to wish for any reason that your own pain should increase? But that question was not answerable yet. The boots were approaching again. The door opened. O'Brien came in. Winston started to his feet. The shock of the sight had driven all caution out of him. For the first time in many years he forgot the presence of the telescreen. 'They've got you too!' he cried. 'They got me a long time ago,' said O'Brien with a mild, almost regretful irony. He stepped aside. from behind him there emerged a broad-chested guard with a long black truncheon in his hand. 'You know him, Winston,' said O'Brien. 'Don't deceive yourself. You did know it -- you have always known it.' Yes, he saw now, he had always known it. But there was no time to think of that. All he had eyes for was the truncheon in the guard's hand. It might fall anywhere; on the crown, on the tip of the ear, on the upper arm, on the elbow- The elbow! He had slumped to his knees, almost paralysed, clasping the stricken elbow with his other hand
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