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... ied, accepting her hand, feeling the softness of those hands which baked bread.

Damrot slumbered against his mother’s front, his head resting upon her shoulder, the boy clutching at her sleeve with one hand, the other dangling at their side. He was completely defenceless to the world, but so full of warmth, his heart surely soothed by his mother’s affection.

Jurot stared against the back of the boy’s head, his hair so much thicker now. “Is Monarot well?”

“She is,” Pam rep ...

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