She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. “Not too bad. In after years you can return to your own country—to your friends. I wish they would just get it over with. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. And from then on we'll see them, port and starboard, to the end of the voyage.
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