Novel Bin
Chapter 379: Could it be Ryan -the jerk- Foster?
Chapter 379: Could it be Ryan -the jerk- Foster?
"So, you are telling me that what you saw in your dream last night wasn't actually a dream but something that you have experienced in the past?"
Gianna questioned, just after she heard Arwen explain it all to her. From the dream to what she has seen and what she has felt about it.
Arwen's expression was as complicated as it had been last night. She simply shrugged and answered. "I don't know. I am confused."
"What are you confused about, Arwen?" Gianna asked, still not quite understanding what was confusing Arwen exactly. "It can either be a dream, or it cannot be. You just have to think and then decide if it was something that you have built out of your imagination or something that you actually experienced in reality."
On if that was as simple as she put in the words …
Arwen shook her head, not able to explain.
Standing, she turned and walked towards the window. "It's not as easy as that, Anna. I am not able to explain it to you."
She paused, shaking her head in slight desperation. "I don't know how to explain it to anyone. The dream was too vivid, too real to be called a dream. It didn't look like some imagination at all.'
"Then it must not be an imagination at all, Wenna," Gianna spoke, her tone stating as if it was too obvious to not understand. "It must be something that must have happened in the past. You might have known him. And —"
Before Gianna could say further, Arwen turned back to face her, shaking her head.
Confused, Gianna stopped mid-sentence to listen to Arwen.
"How can it be real, Anna. I don't hold any such memory. It had never happened in my life. I never behaved that comfortable with anybody as I was behaving that that boy." Arwen explained the second part of her confusion.
And listening to her, Gianna frowned. "Then you mean that it's neither a dream nor the memory?"
Arwen shook her head again. "I am saying that it feels both, but is none. I can't tell if it is a dream or reality that had happened with me in the past."
"But how can that be possible? It should be either one of them, right?" Gianna felt it was more complicated. Suddenly, she realized something and asked, "Wait, Arwen, you said that boy felt familiar to you. Do you remember who he is?"
Arwen thought back to what she had seen in her dream, and then after giving it a thought, she shook her head. "I don't know. His face wasn't quite visible. It was very blurry. So, I don't know who he was. I might know him, or maybe I not."
"What if you truly know him then?" Gianna asked. "Do you think at such a young age, you would have promised someone to marry in the future?"
"I —"
"Wait!"
Before Arwen could answer Gianna, she halted her, her expression frozen as if she had realized something that scared her to the core.
Seeing her like that, Arwen's brows also knitted. "What's wrong?"
"Wenna, think carefully … like really carefully," Gianna slowly said as if she was really cautious about even speaking about it. Like, if she said it too fast, or too loudly, it might turn out to be the truth in reality. "By any chance, can that boy be Ryan?"
"Huh?"
Arwen was slightly taken aback.
Feeling like she hadn't been very clear with her words, Gianna repeated it again. "I asked by any chance, is it possible that the guy you have seen in your dream can be Ryan—the - 'jerk'—Foster?"
If that turns out to be true …
Wouldn't that mean that Arwen have long promised him her life, yet later she chose to back down from it?
As far as she has known Arwen, she never goes back on her words. If she made a promise to someone, she would fulfil it, regardless of what it would cost her.
If that really turns out to be true, and Ryan turns out to be that guy, she would have to find a way to make Arwen realize that the promises made at such a young age need not be serious.
After all, now she was her aunt … her uncle's wife —Mrs. Winslow.
Arwen paused at her words.
Seeing her like that, Gianna thought Arwen was actually thinking it was true, But the very instant she would have cried, Arwen shook her head and clicked her tongue at the idea.
"No, it can't be Ryan," Arwen said.
And a relief washed over Gianna's panicked heart. She moved her hand to pat her chest to ease the constriction she felt there. "He can't be?" she asked, sighing out a deep breath.
Arwen shook her head, more confidently. "He can't be. It's more like impossible for him to be that boy."
"Oh, is it?" Gianna smiled … more like happily smiled. "Why are you so confident? I mean, h-he has been with you since the very early days, right? You grew up together, more or less like childhood sweethearts. So, I thought —"
"Anna, I have never been that close to Ryan," Arwen said without any hesitation. "Even if we grew together, I never stood even a meter close to him until it was necessary. He simply can't be the boy I saw in my dream. And he was different from him … like very different."
"Different?" Gianna's interest was piqued. "How was he different? Since you didn't see his face, it definitely can't be his looks that made you think so, right?"
Arwen's brows furrowed. She truly wanted to see that face.
Although she hadn't seen it, given the way her younger version was smiling at him, the way her gaze held her … it was obvious the boy must have held the charms enough to captivate her.
"He was different from him because he was more like human towards me. He cared about him and behaved like; he would have gone to the extent of Heaven if I asked him to. He was simply too doting."
Ahem!
Gianna coughed, interrupting Arwen. "Then I can't even imagine my uncle to be that boy. Hasn't that boy set your standards a little too high?"
"Your Uncle?" Arwen paused at the mention of Aiden.
If asked her, that boy did seem like Aiden. They did feel to be similar.
䌒䖋㸅 䎔㘭䯎㸅 䖋㯠㡖㧖 㫾㘭㸅 㳭㘭㱻㸅㙴䋨㱻㧖 㸅㙴㳭㧖䯎䎅 䯎㝚㧖 㝚䋠䁒 㯠䖋㸅㙴㡖㧖䁒 㸅㝚㧖 㘭㯠㡖䋠㯠㯠㚎 䘵䋠㳭㙴㱻㙴䋠㞆㙴㸅㚎 㫾㧖㸅䅌㧖㧖㯠 䲿㙴䁒㧖㯠 䋠㯠䁒 㸅㝚㧖 㫾䖋㚎 䯎㝚㧖 䯎䋠䅌 㙴㯠 㝚㧖㞆 䁒㞆㧖䋠㳭䩊
䲿㸅 㸅㙴㳭㧖䯎䎅 㸅㝚㧖㚎 㱻䖋䖋㠦㧖䁒 䯎䖋 䯎㙴㳭㙴㱻䋠㞆 㸅㝚䋠㸅 䯎㝚㧖 䋠㱻㳭䖋䯎㸅 㫾㧖㱻㙴㧖㶟㧖䁒 㸅㝚㧖㚎 䅌㧖㞆㧖㯠'㸅 䁒㙴䘵䘵㧖㞆㧖㯠㸅 䋠㸅 䋠㱻㱻 —㫾㘭㸅 㸅㝚㧖 䯎䋠㳭㧖 䋨㧖㞆䯎䖋㯠䩊
㵪䖋䅌 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒 㙴㸅 㫾㧖 䲿㙴䁒㧖㯠䮍
㕑㸅 㡖䋠㯠'㸅 㫾㧖 㝚㙴㳭䩊
䧮㘭㸅 㧖㶟㧖㞆㚎 䯎㙴㯠䇆㱻㧖 㸅㙴㳭㧖䎅 㝚㧖 㝚䋠䁒 㸅䖋㱻䁒 㝚㧖㞆 㸅㝚㧖㚎 䁒㙴䁒㯠'㸅䩊
䲿㯠䁒 㙴䘵 㸅㝚㧖㚎 䁒㙴䁒㯠'㸅䎅 㸅㝚㧖㯠 㝚㧖 䁒㧖䘵㙴㯠㙴㸅㧖㱻㚎 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒㯠'㸅 㫾㧖 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㫾䖋㚎䩊
䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 㧖㯟㝚䋠㱻㧖䁒 䯎䖋䘵㸅㱻㚎䎅 䯎㝚䋠㠦㙴㯠䇆 㝚㧖㞆 㝚㧖䋠䁒䩊 "㕑㸅 㡖䋠㯠'㸅 㫾㧖 㝚㙴㳭䎅" 䯎㝚㧖 㳭㘭㞆㳭㘭㞆㧖䁒 䋠䘵㸅㧖㞆 䋠 㫾㞆㙴㧖䘵 䯎㙴㱻㧖㯠㡖㧖䩊
䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠䎅 䅌㝚䖋 㝚䋠䁒 㫾㧖㧖㯠 㱻䖋䯎㸅 㙴㯠 㸅㝚䖋㘭䇆㝚㸅䎅 㝚㘭㳭㳭㧖䁒 㫾㧖䘵䖋㞆㧖 㯠䖋䁒䁒㙴㯠䇆䩊 "䛗㧖䯎䎅 㝚㧖 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒㯠'㸅 㫾㧖䩊 䲿䘵㸅㧖㞆 䋠㱻㱻䎅 㚎䖋㘭 䯎䋠㙴䁒 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㫾䖋㚎 㫾㧖㝚䋠㶟㧖䁒 㝚㘭㳭䋠㯠㱻㚎 䅌㝚㧖㯠䎅 䯎㙴㯠㡖㧖 㚎䖋㘭㯠䇆䎅 㳭㚎 㘭㯠㡖㱻㧖 㝚䋠䯎 㫾㧖㧖㯠 㠦㯠䖋䅌㯠 䋠䯎 㸅㝚㧖 '㵪䋠䁒㧖䯎 —㸅㝚㧖 䞫䖋䁒 䖋䘵 㸅㝚㧖 䆑㯠䁒㧖㞆䅌䖋㞆㱻䁒䩊' 㪼㝚㧖 㯠䋠㸅㘭㞆㧖 䖋䘵 䁒䖋㸅㙴㯠䇆䧔㯠㧖䯎䯎 䅌䖋㘭㱻䁒 䯎㸅㙴㱻㱻 㫾㧖 䖋㸅㝚㧖㞆䅌䖋㞆㱻䁒㱻㚎 䘵䖋㞆 㝚㙴㳭䩊"
䲿 㳭㧖㳭䖋㞆㚎 䯎㘭䁒䁒㧖㯠㱻㚎 䯎㘭㞆䘵䋠㡖㧖䁒 㙴㯠 㝚㧖㞆 㳭㙴㯠䁒䎅 㳭䋠㠦㙴㯠䇆 㝚㧖㞆 㡖㝚㘭㡖㠦㱻㧖䩊
"䛗䖋㘭 㠦㯠䖋䅌䎅" 䯎㝚㧖 㫾㧖䇆䋠㯠䎅 "㕑 䯎㸅㙴㱻㱻 㞆㧖㳭㧖㳭㫾㧖㞆 㸅㝚㙴䯎 䖋㯠㧖 㸅㙴㳭㧖 䅌㝚㧖㯠 䋠 㞆㧖㱻䋠㸅㙴㶟㧖'䯎 䘵㙴㶟㧖䧔㚎㧖䋠㞆䧔䖋㱻䁒 䁒䋠㘭䇆㝚㸅㧖㞆 㶟㙴䯎㙴㸅㧖䁒 㸅㝚㧖 䖋㱻䁒 㝚䖋㘭䯎㧖 䘵䖋㞆 䋠 䘵䋠㳭㙴㱻㚎 㧖㶟㧖㯠㸅䩊 䆩㙴㯠㡖㧖 㙴㸅 䅌䋠䯎 䯎䖋㳭㧖㸅㝚㙴㯠䇆 㙴㳭䋨䖋㞆㸅䋠㯠㸅䎅 㧖㶟㧖㯠 㳭㚎 㘭㯠㡖㱻㧖 䅌䋠䯎 㸅㝚㧖㞆㧖䩊"
"㪼㝚䋠㸅 㠦㙴䁒 䅌䋠䯎 㡖䖋㳭䋨㱻㧖㸅㧖㱻㚎 㡖㝚䋠㞆㳭㧖䁒 㫾㚎 㳭㚎 㘭㯠㡖㱻㧖'䯎 㝚䋠㯠䁒䯎䖋㳭㧖 䘵䋠㡖㧖䩊 䆩㝚㧖 㞆䋠㯠 㘭䋨 㸅䖋 㝚㙴㳭 䋠㯠䁒 䯎䅌㧖㧖㸅㱻㚎 䋠䯎㠦㧖䁒 㝚㙴㳭 㸅䖋 㡖䋠㞆㞆㚎 㝚㧖㞆 䎔㘭䯎㸅 䖋㯠㡖㧖䩊"
䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 㞆䋠㙴䯎㧖䁒 䋠㯠 㧖㚎㧖㫾㞆䖋䅌䩊 "䲿㯠䁒䮍"
䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 㫾㱻㙴㯠㠦㧖䁒䎅 㸅䋠㠦㧖㯠 䋠㫾䋠㡖㠦䩊 "䆩㧖㞆㙴䖋㘭䯎㱻㚎䮍" 䆩㝚㧖 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒㯠'㸅 㝚㧖㱻䋨 㫾㘭㸅 㙴㳭䋠䇆㙴㯠㧖 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㳭䖋㳭㧖㯠㸅䩊 㵪㧖 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒㯠'㸅 㝚䋠㶟㧖 㳭䋠䁒㧖 㙴㸅 䯎䖋 䯎㧖㞆㙴䖋㘭䯎 䅌㙴㸅㝚 䋠 㠦㙴䁒䎅 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒 㝚㧖䮍
䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 㯠䖋䁒䁒㧖䁒 䅌㙴㸅㝚 䋠 㱻䋠㘭䇆㝚䩊 "䛗㧖䯎䳟 䲿㯠䁒 㚎䖋㘭 㠦㯠䖋䅌 㸅㝚㧖 䘵㘭㯠㯠㙴㧖䯎㸅 䋨䋠㞆㸅䮍 㺼䋠㸅㧖㞆䎅 㳭㚎 䇆㞆䋠㯠䁒䘵䋠㸅㝚㧖㞆 㸅㞆㙴㧖䁒 㸅䖋 䯎㡖䖋㱻䁒 㝚㙴㳭 䘵䖋㞆 㳭䋠㠦㙴㯠䇆 㸅㝚㧖 䋨䖋䖋㞆 䇆㙴㞆㱻 㡖㞆㚎䩊 䧮㘭㸅 㚎䖋㘭 㠦㯠䖋䅌 䅌㝚䋠㸅 㝚㧖 䯎䋠㙴䁒䮍"
䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 䁒㞆䋠㳭䋠㸅㙴㡖䋠㱻㱻㚎 䁒㧖㧖䋨㧖㯠㧖䁒 㝚㧖㞆 㶟䖋㙴㡖㧖䎅 㳭㙴㳭㙴㡖㠦㙴㯠䇆 䲿㙴䁒㧖㯠'䯎 㡖䖋㱻䁒 䁒㧖㳭㧖䋠㯠䖋㞆䩊 "㕑 䁒䖋㯠'㸅 㡖䋠㞆㞆㚎 䋨㧖䖋䋨㱻㧖 㘭㯠㱻㧖䯎䯎 㕑 㙴㯠㸅㧖㯠䁒 㸅䖋 㠦㧖㧖䋨 㸅㝚㧖㳭䩊"
䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 䅌䋠䯎 㸅䋠㠦㧖㯠 䋠㫾䋠㡖㠦䩊
㕑 䅌䖋㯠'㸅 㡖㱻㙴㡖㠦 䋨㙴㡖㸅㘭㞆㧖䯎 䅌㙴㸅㝚 䋠 䇆㙴㞆㱻 㘭㯠㱻㧖䯎䯎 … 䯎㝚㧖 㙴䯎 㸅㝚㧖 䖋㯠㱻㚎 䖋㯠㧖 㕑 㝚䋠㶟㧖 㸅䖋 㸅䋠㠦㧖 䋨㙴㡖㸅㘭㞆㧖䯎 䅌㙴㸅㝚 … 䘵䖋㞆 㱻㙴䘵㧖䩊
䲿㱻㸅㝚䖋㘭䇆㝚 㸅㝚䖋䯎㧖 䅌㧖㞆㧖㯠'㸅 㸅㝚㧖 㧖㯟䋠㡖㸅 䅌䖋㞆䁒䯎 䘵㞆䖋㳭 㸅㝚㧖 䁒㞆㧖䋠㳭䎅 㸅㝚㧖 㙴㯠㸅㧖㯠㸅㙴䖋㯠 㫾㧖㝚㙴㯠䁒 㙴㸅 䅌䋠䯎 㶟㧖㞆㚎 䯎㙴㳭㙴㱻䋠㞆…
"㵪䖋䅌 㡖䋠㯠 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㫾㧖 䋨䖋䯎䯎㙴㫾㱻㧖䮍" 䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 㳭㘭㸅㸅㧖㞆㧖䁒 㘭㯠䁒㧖㞆 㝚㧖㞆 㫾㞆㧖䋠㸅㝚䩊
㵪㧖㞆 䁒㙴䯎㫾㧖㱻㙴㧖䘵 䅌䋠䯎 㸅䖋㸅䋠㱻㱻㚎 䘵䖋㞆 䯎䖋㳭㧖㸅㝚㙴㯠䇆 㧖㱻䯎㧖 䅌㝚㧖㯠 䯎㝚㧖 䅌䋠䯎 㳭㘭㸅㸅㧖㞆㙴㯠䇆 㸅㝚䋠㸅䎅 㫾㘭㸅 䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 㸅㝚䖋㘭䇆㝚㸅 㸅㝚䋠㸅 䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒㯠'㸅 㫾㧖㱻㙴㧖㶟㧖 㙴㸅䩊 㵪㧖㯠㡖㧖䎅 㝚䖋㱻䁒㙴㯠䇆 㝚㧖㞆 㝚䋠㯠䁒 㘭䋨 䋠䯎 㙴䘵 㸅䋠㠦㙴㯠䇆 䋠㯠 䖋䋠㸅㝚䎅 䯎㝚㧖 䯎䋠㙴䁒䎅 "㕑 䯎䅌㧖䋠㞆䳟 䲿㯠䁒 㸅㝚㧖 䋨䖋䖋㞆 㠦㙴䁒䮍 䆩㝚㧖 䅌䋠䯎 䯎䖋 㸅㧖㞆㞆㙴䘵㙴㧖䁒 㸅㝚䋠㸅 䯎㝚㧖 㡖㱻㘭㯠䇆 㸅䖋 㝚㧖㞆 㳭䖋㸅㝚㧖㞆 䋠㯠䁒 㞆㧖䘵㘭䯎㧖䁒 㸅䖋 㡖䖋㳭㧖 䋠㯠㚎䅌㝚㧖㞆㧖 㯠㧖䋠㞆 㝚㙴㳭 䘵䖋㞆 㸅㝚㧖 㞆㧖䯎㸅 䖋䘵 㸅㝚㧖 㯠㙴䇆㝚㸅䩊"
䥯㧖㡖䋠㱻㱻㙴㯠䇆 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㳭㧖㳭䖋㞆㚎 䯎㸅㙴㱻㱻 㳭䋠㠦㧖䯎 㝚㧖㞆 㱻䋠㘭䇆㝚䩊 䞫㞆㙴㯠㯠㙴㯠䇆䎅 䯎㝚㧖 䋠䯎㠦㧖䁒䩊 "䆩䖋䎅 㯠䖋䅌 㠦㯠䖋䅌㙴㯠䇆 㸅㝚㙴䯎䎅 䁒䖋 㚎䖋㘭 䯎㸅㙴㱻㱻 㸅㝚㙴㯠㠦 㳭㚎 㘭㯠㡖㱻㧖 䅌䖋㘭㱻䁒 䁒䖋㸅㧖 䖋㯠 䋠 䇆㙴㞆㱻䮍 㵪㧖 㡖䋠㯠'㸅 㧖㶟㧖㯠 㫾㧖 䋠 㫾㙴㸅 䋨䋠㸅㙴㧖㯠㸅 䅌㙴㸅㝚 䯎㘭㡖㝚 䋠 㚎䖋㘭㯠䇆 䇆㙴㞆㱻䳚 㝚䖋䅌 㡖䋠㯠 㝚㧖 㫾㧖 䁒䖋㸅㙴㯠䇆 㸅䖋䅌䋠㞆䁒䯎 䋠㯠㚎䖋㯠㧖䮍"
䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 䁒㙴䁒㯠'㸅 䯎䋠㚎 䋠㯠㚎㸅㝚㙴㯠䇆䎅 䯎㝚㧖 䅌䋠䯎 㸅䖋䖋 㧖㯠䇆㞆䖋䯎䯎㧖䁒 㙴㯠 㝚㧖㞆 䖋䅌㯠 㸅㝚䖋㘭䇆㝚㸅䯎 㸅䖋 㞆㧖䋠㱻㙴㐧㧖 䅌㝚䋠㸅 䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 㝚䋠䁒 䋠䯎㠦㧖䁒 㝚㧖㞆䩊
"㪼㝚㧖 䋨㱻䋠㡖㧖 䅌䋠䯎 䘵䋠㳭㙴㱻㙴䋠㞆䎅" 䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 㞆㧖䯎䋨䖋㯠䁒㧖䁒䎅 㶟㧖㞆㚎 䯎㘭㞆㧖 䋠㱻㞆㧖䋠䁒㚎䩊 "㕑㸅 䅌䋠䯎 㸅㝚㧖 䋨㞆㧖㶟㙴䖋㘭䯎 䯎㡖㝚䖋䖋㱻'䯎 䋨㱻䋠㚎䇆㞆䖋㘭㯠䁒䩊 㕑 㝚䋠㶟㧖 㫾㧖㧖㯠 㸅㝚㧖㞆㧖 㫾㧖䘵䖋㞆㧖䎅 䯎䖋 㕑 㞆㧖㳭㧖㳭㫾㧖㞆 㙴㸅 䅌㧖㱻㱻䩊"
"䛗䖋㘭㞆 䋨㞆㧖㶟㙴䖋㘭䯎 䯎㡖㝚䖋䖋㱻䎅" 䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 㞆㧖䋨㧖䋠㸅㧖䁒䎅 㞆㘭㫾㫾㙴㯠䇆 㝚㧖㞆 㡖㝚㙴㯠䩊 "䯴䋠㯠 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㫾䖋㚎 㫾㧖 䯎䖋㳭㧖䖋㯠㧖 䘵㞆䖋㳭 㚎䖋㘭㞆 䯎㡖㝚䖋䖋㱻 㸅㝚㧖㯠䮍 䥯㙴䇆㝚㸅 …" 䯎㝚㧖 䯎㘭䁒䁒㧖㯠㱻㚎 䋨䋠㘭䯎㧖䁒䎅 㞆㧖㳭㧖㳭㫾㧖㞆㙴㯠䇆 䋠㯠䖋㸅㝚㧖㞆 㸅㝚㙴㯠䇆䩊 "䛗䖋㘭 㫾㞆䖋㘭䇆㝚㸅 㸅㝚䋠㸅 䋨㝚䖋㸅䖋 䋠㱻㫾㘭㳭 䘵㞆䖋㳭 㚎䖋㘭㞆 䯎㡖㝚䖋䖋㱻 䁒䋠㚎䯎䩊 㪼㝚㧖㞆㧖 䅌㧖㞆㧖 㳭䋠㯠㚎 䇆㘭㚎䯎 㙴㯠 䁒㙴䘵䘵㧖㞆㧖㯠㸅 䋨㙴㡖㸅㘭㞆㧖䯎䩊 㞖䖋 㚎䖋㘭 㸅㝚㙴㯠㠦 䋠㯠㚎䖋㯠㧖 䖋䘵 㸅㝚㧖㳭 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒 㫾㧖䮍"
䆩㝚䋠㠦㙴㯠䇆 㝚㧖㞆 㝚㧖䋠䁒䎅 䯎㝚㧖 䯎䋠㙴䁒䎅 "䌒䖋㯠㧖 䖋䘵 㸅㝚㧖㳭 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒 㫾㧖䩊"
"㵪䖋䅌 㡖䋠㯠 㚎䖋㘭 㫾㧖 䯎䖋 䯎㘭㞆㧖䮍" 䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 䋠䯎㠦㧖䁒䎅 䘵㙴㯠䁒㙴㯠䇆 㝚㧖㞆 㡖䖋㯠䘵㙴䁒㧖㯠㡖㧖 䋠 㱻㙴㸅㸅㱻㧖 㘭㯠㡖䋠㯠㯠㚎䩊 "䛗䖋㘭 㝚䋠㶟㧖㯠'㸅 䯎㧖㧖㯠 㝚㙴䯎 䘵䋠㡖㧖䎅 㞆㙴䇆㝚㸅䮍"
䧮㘭㸅 䯎㸅㙴㱻㱻䎅 䯎㝚㧖 䅌䋠䯎 䯎㘭㞆㧖 … 㶟㧖㞆㚎 䯎㘭㞆㧖䩊
"㕑 䎔㘭䯎㸅 㠦㯠䖋䅌 㙴㸅䎅 䲿㯠㯠䋠䩊 㞖䖋㯠'㸅 䋠䯎㠦 㳭㧖 㝚䖋䅌 䖋㞆 䅌㝚㚎䩊 㕑 㳭㙴䇆㝚㸅 㯠䖋㸅 㫾㧖 䋠㫾㱻㧖 㸅䖋 㧖㯟䋨㱻䋠㙴㯠 㙴㸅 㸅䖋 㚎䖋㘭 䋠㯠䁒 䅌㙴㱻㱻 㚎䖋㘭 㫾㧖 䋠㫾㱻㧖 㸅䖋 㘭㯠䁒㧖㞆䯎㸅䋠㯠䁒 㙴㸅䩊" 䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 㸅㘭㞆㯠㧖䁒 䋠䅌䋠㚎 㸅䖋 㱻䖋䖋㠦 䖋㘭㸅䯎㙴䁒㧖 㸅㝚㧖 䅌㙴㯠䁒䖋䅌 䖋㯠㡖㧖 䋠䇆䋠㙴㯠䩊
䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 䋨䋠㘭䯎㧖䁒 䋠㸅 㸅㝚䋠㸅䩊 䧮㘭㸅 㸅㝚㧖㯠 㻖㘭㙴㡖㠦㱻㚎 䯎㝚㧖 㞆㧖䋨㱻㙴㧖䁒䩊 "㕑䧔㕑 䁒䖋㯠'㸅 㞆㧖㳭㧖㳭㫾㧖㞆 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㯠䋠㳭㧖䩊 㕑 䅌䖋㠦㧖 㙴㳭㳭㧖䁒㙴䋠㸅㧖㱻㚎 䋠䘵㸅㧖㞆 㸅㝚䋠㸅䎅 䯎䖋 㕑 䁒㙴䁒㯠'㸅 㝚㧖䋠㞆 㙴㸅 䋨㞆䖋䋨㧖㞆㱻㚎䩊"
㪼㝚㧖 䅌䋠㚎 䯎㝚㧖 䯎䋠㙴䁒 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㳭䋠䁒㧖 䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 䁒䖋㘭㫾㸅䩊 䯛㙴㸅㝚 䘵㘭㞆㞆䖋䅌㧖䁒 㫾㞆䖋䅌䯎䎅 䯎㝚㧖 䋠䯎㠦㧖䁒䎅 "䲿㞆㧖 㚎䖋㘭 䯎㘭㞆㧖䎅 䯛㧖㯠㯠䋠䎅 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㚎䖋㘭 䁒䖋㯠'㸅 㞆㧖㳭㧖㳭㫾㧖㞆䮍"
㵪䖋䅌 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒 䯎㝚㧖 㯠䖋㸅䮍
㕑㸅 䅌䋠䯎 䯎䖋 㶟㙴㶟㙴䁒 䋠㯠䁒 㱻䖋㘭䁒 㸅㝚䋠㸅 䯎㝚㧖 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒㯠'㸅 䘵䖋㞆䇆㧖㸅 㙴㸅 䋠䇆䋠㙴㯠䩊 㵪㧖 㡖䋠㱻㱻㧖䁒 㝚㧖㞆 … 䝗䖋䖋㯠䳟
䲿㱻㸅㝚䖋㘭䇆㝚 䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 㝚䋠䯎 䋠㱻㳭䖋䯎㸅 䋠㡖㡖㧖䋨㸅㧖䁒 㸅㝚䋠㸅 䲿㙴䁒㧖㯠 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒㯠'㸅 㫾㧖 㸅㝚㧖 㫾䖋㚎 䘵㞆䖋㳭 㝚㧖㞆 䁒㞆㧖䋠㳭䎅 䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 㠦㯠㧖䅌 㝚㧖㞆 䘵㞆㙴㧖㯠䁒 䅌㧖㱻㱻䩊
䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 䅌䋠㯠㸅㧖䁒 㝚㧖㞆 㸅䖋 㫾㧖㱻㙴㧖㶟㧖 㸅㝚䋠㸅 䯎㝚㧖 䋠㯠䁒 䲿㙴䁒㧖㯠 㝚䋠䁒 䋠 㡖䖋㯠㯠㧖㡖㸅㙴䖋㯠 䘵㞆䖋㳭 㸅㝚㧖 䋨䋠䯎㸅䩊
㕑䘵 䯎㝚㧖 䇆䋠㶟㧖 㝚㧖㞆 㧖㶟㧖㯠 㸅㝚㧖 䯎㱻㙴䇆㝚㸅㧖䯎㸅 㝚㙴㯠㸅 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒 㡖䖋㯠㯠㧖㡖㸅 䲿㙴䁒㧖㯠 㸅䖋 㝚㧖㞆 䁒㞆㧖䋠㳭䎅 䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 䅌䖋㘭㱻䁒㯠'㸅 㞆㧖䯎㸅 㘭㯠㸅㙴㱻 䯎㝚㧖 䋨㞆䖋㶟㧖䁒 㙴㸅䩊
䲿㯠䁒 䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 㯠䖋 㱻䖋㯠䇆㧖㞆 䅌䋠㯠㸅㧖䁒 㸅㝚㧖 㸅㝚㧖䖋㞆㚎 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㡖䖋㘭㱻䁒 䋨䖋䯎䯎㙴㫾㱻㚎 㫾㧖 㸅㝚㧖 㞆㧖䋠㱻 㙴㯠 㞆㧖䋠㱻㙴㸅㚎 … 䆩㝚㧖 䅌䋠㯠㸅㧖䁒 㸅㝚㧖 㸅㞆㘭㸅㝚䎅 㸅㝚㧖 㞆㧖䋠㱻 㸅㝚㙴㯠䇆 㙴㸅䯎㧖㱻䘵䩊
䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 䯎㙴䇆㝚㧖䁒 䋠㯠䁒 㸅㝚㧖㯠 㯠䖋䁒䁒㧖䁒䎅 "㕑㯠 㸅㝚䋠㸅 䯎㧖㯠䯎㧖䩊 䯛㧖 㝚䋠㶟㧖 䋠㱻㞆㧖䋠䁒㚎 㞆㧖䋠䁒 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㙴㯠 䁒㞆㧖䋠㳭䯎䎅 䅌㧖 䖋㯠㱻㚎 㧖㯠㡖䖋㘭㯠㸅㧖㞆 㸅㝚㧖 䘵䋠㡖㧖䯎 䅌㧖 㠦㯠䖋䅌䩊 䆩㙴㯠㡖㧖 㚎䖋㘭 㝚䋠㶟㧖 䯎㧖㧖㯠 㸅㝚㧖 䘵䋠㡖㧖 䖋䘵 㸅㝚㧖 㫾䖋㚎䎅 㸅㝚㧖㯠 㙴㸅'䯎 䋨䖋䯎䯎㙴㫾㱻㧖 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㝚㧖 䁒䖋㧖䯎㯠'㸅 㧖㯟㙴䯎㸅 䋠㸅 䋠㱻㱻䩊 㕑㸅 㳭㘭䯎㸅 㫾㧖 䎔㘭䯎㸅 㚎䖋㘭㞆 㙴㳭䋠䇆㙴㯠䋠㸅㙴䖋㯠 㸅㝚䋠㸅 㡖䋠㳭㧖 㸅䖋 㚎䖋㘭 䋠䯎 䋠 䁒㞆㧖䋠㳭䩊"
䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 䁒㙴䁒㯠'㸅 㱻㧖㸅 㸅㝚㧖 㸅䖋䋨㙴㡖 䯎㸅㞆㧖㸅㡖㝚 䘵䖋㞆 㱻䖋㯠䇆䩊 䌒䖋䁒䁒㙴㯠䇆䎅 䯎㝚㧖 䋠䇆㞆㧖㧖䁒 䅌㙴㸅㝚 䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠䩊 "䛗㧖䯎䎅 㕑 㸅㝚㙴㯠㠦 㕑 䋠㳭 䎔㘭䯎㸅 䖋㶟㧖㞆㸅㝚㙴㯠㠦㙴㯠䇆䩊 㕑㸅 㳭㘭䯎㸅 䎔㘭䯎㸅 㫾㧖 䋠 … 䁒㞆㧖䋠㳭䩊"
䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 㡖㝚㧖㡖㠦㧖䁒 㸅㝚㧖 㸅㙴㳭㧖 䋠㯠䁒 㞆㧖䋠㱻㙴㐧㙴㯠䇆 㙴㸅 䅌䋠䯎 䋠㱻㳭䖋䯎㸅 㸅㝚㧖㞆㧖䎅 䯎㝚㧖 䯎䋠㙴䁒䎅 "䝖䘵 㙴㸅'䯎 䋠㱻㞆㧖䋠䁒㚎 㧖㶟㧖㯠䎅" 䯎㝚㧖 䋨㙴㡖㠦㧖䁒 㝚㧖㞆 㝚䋠㯠䁒㫾䋠䇆 䋠㯠䁒 㸅㝚㧖㯠 㝚㧖㞆 㱻䋠䋨㸅䖋䋨䩊 "㕑 㸅㝚㙴㯠㠦 㕑 䯎㝚䖋㘭㱻䁒 㱻㧖䋠㶟㧖 㯠䖋䅌䩊 㕑 㝚䋠㶟㧖 䋠 㳭㧖㧖㸅㙴㯠䇆 㱻䋠㸅㧖㞆䩊"
"䯛㝚㧖㯠 䅌㙴㱻㱻 㚎䖋㘭 㫾㧖 㫾䋠㡖㠦 㸅㝚㧖㯠䮍" 䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 㠦㯠㧖䅌 㸅㝚䋠㸅 䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 䅌䋠䯎 䇆䖋㙴㯠䇆 㸅䖋 㸅㝚㧖 㡖䖋㳭䋨䋠㯠㚎 㸅䖋䁒䋠㚎䩊 䆩䖋䎅 䯎㝚㧖 䅌䋠䯎㯠'㸅 䯎㘭㞆䋨㞆㙴䯎㧖䁒 䋠㸅 䋠㱻㱻䩊
䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 㯠䖋䁒䁒㧖䁒䩊 "䆑㯠䁒㧖㞆䯎㸅䖋䖋䁒䎅 䝗䋠'䋠㳭䩊 䌒䖋䅌 䇆䖋䩊"
䲿㞆䅌㧖㯠 䯎㳭㙴㱻㧖䁒䩊 㪼㝚㧖㯠䎅 㯠䖋䁒䁒㙴㯠䇆䎅 䯎㝚㧖 㸅㘭㞆㯠㧖䁒 㸅䖋 㱻㧖䋠㶟㧖䩊 䧮㘭㸅 䯎㝚㧖 㝚䋠䁒 㝚䋠㞆䁒㱻㚎 㸅䋠㠦㧖㯠 䋠 䘵㧖䅌 䯎㸅㧖䋨䯎 䅌㝚㧖㯠 䯎㝚㧖 㝚㧖䋠㞆䁒 䞫㙴䋠㯠㯠䋠 䯎㸅䖋䋨 㝚㧖㞆 䋠䇆䋠㙴㯠䩊
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