1 The gin was rising from his stomach.
2 The gin was wearing off, leaving a deflated feeling.
3 Uncommanded, the waiter brought fresh glasses of gin.
4 The gin was served out to them in handleless china mugs.
5 Winston had dropped his habit of drinking gin at all hours.
6 As always, the gin made him shudder and even retch slightly.
7 Some could even be purchased for a bottle of gin, which the proles were not supposed to drink.
8 Even now, in spite of the gin, the dull ache in his belly made consecutive thought impossible.
9 The proles were supposed not to drink gin, though in practice they could get hold of it easily enough.
10 They were sitting in silence before glasses of the gin flavoured with cloves which was the speciality of the cafe.
11 Winston took up his mug of gin, paused for an instant to collect his nerve, and gulped the oily-tasting stuff down.
12 On the far side of the room there was a small bar, a mere hole in the wall, where gin could be bought at ten cents the large nip.
13 It seemed to breathe out of his skin in place of sweat, and one could have fancied that the tears welling from his eyes were pure gin.
14 He was conscious of nothing except the blankness of the page in front of him, the itching of the skin above his ankle, the blaring of the music, and a slight booziness caused by the gin.
15 The sky was a warmer blue than he had seen it that year, and suddenly the long, noisy evening at the Centre, the boring, exhausting games, the lectures, the creaking camaraderie oiled by gin, had seemed intolerable.
16 A low-ceilinged, crowded room, its walls grimy from the contact of innumerable bodies; battered metal tables and chairs, placed so close together that you sat with elbows touching; bent spoons, dented trays, coarse white mugs; all surfaces greasy, grime in every crack; and a sourish, composite smell of bad gin and bad coffee and metallic stew and dirty clothes.
17 In any time that he could accurately remember, there had never been quite enough to eat, one had never had socks or underclothes that were not full of holes, furniture had always been battered and rickety, rooms underheated, tube trains crowded, houses falling to pieces, bread dark-coloured, tea a rarity, coffee filthy-tasting, cigarettes insufficient--nothing cheap and plentiful except synthetic gin.
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