My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her

Chapter 341: Chapter 341 CAREFUL

KIERAN’S POV

Timing was quickly becoming an enemy.

I cursed it now as Sera’s breaths came uneven beneath me, her hands braced against my chest, her eyes dark with want she was refusing for reasons that both made sense and infuriated me in equal measure.

“I’m not trying to make this harder,” she said softly, as if reading the war etched into every line of my body. “I want you. Goddess, Kieran, I do. But right now…we have to be careful.”

Careful.

The word scraped against every frayed nerve.

I forced myself to still, my forehead dropping to hers, breath hot and restrained.

“You have a terrible habit,” I muttered, “of being right at the worst possible moments.”

A small, breathless laugh escaped her. “You love it.”

I did.

I loved her mind. Her foresight. The way she saw three steps ahead while still standing firmly in the present.

And hearing her say she wanted me sent something fierce and hungry swelling in my chest.

I remembered the last time I’d let her go after a heated moment, remembered the way Ashar had berated me.

‘You should’ve been bolder,’ he’d chided. ‘You shouldn’t have stopped. Even if you were going to let her go, you should have given her an experience she’d never forget. Something she’d think about every night she was away. A memory burned into her skin, so nothing else could compete.’

He stirred now. ‘Are you going to make the same mistake again?’

Fuck no.

I straightened slowly, pulling just enough space between us to breathe again. “Fine,” I said gruffly. “No traces.”

Relief flickered across Sera’s face—followed by surprise when my hands didn’t leave her.

“That,” I added, voice low, deliberate, “doesn’t mean I’m letting you go untouched.”

Her breath caught.

I kissed her then—not hurried, not rough, but devastatingly thorough. As if I had all the time in the world to remind her exactly who she belonged to.

My mouth traced her jaw, her throat, lingering where her pulse pounded a frantic, uneven rhythm.

“Kieran,” she whispered my name like a prayer. “What are you doing?”

“Being careful,” I murmured, my lips skimming her collarbone. “I won’t leave a trace—at least not one that can be sensed.”

Her breath hitched, and the sound sent a jolt of electricity that branched through my entire being and pooled in my groin.

I felt the desire everywhere—tight and aching and demanding—and it took every shred of discipline I had not to push us straight past the line she’d drawn.

Instead, I let my hands guide us downward, slow and deliberate, until she was seated back against the table, palms braced behind her, eyes already glassy with anticipation.

“Look at you,” I murmured, dragging my knuckles along her thigh, reveling in the way she shivered beneath my touch. “Trying to be sensible while your body betrays you.”

“Kieran,” she warned again, but there was no real protest left in it—only breath, only heat.

I answered by sinking to my knees.

The movement drew a sharp gasp from her, her fingers curling instinctively in my hair as I looked up at her from below.

The sight nearly undid me—her flushed skin, parted lips, the way she was already trembling as if she knew exactly where this was going.

I slid my hands along her thighs, pushing her skirt up till I got to her hips. My thumbs traced slow arcs on her hip bone, making her shift restlessly.

“Still want me to stop?” I asked quietly.

Her head tipped back, throat exposed as she gasped, “No.”

That was all the permission I needed.

I rose again and kissed my way down her body, unhurried, reverent, pausing just long enough at each place I knew would make her breath stutter.

She sucked in air sharply when I lifted her shirt and pressed a kiss to her stomach, her fingers tightening in my hair.

“Goddess,” she whispered, voice breaking.

I smiled against her feverish skin.

It had never been like this between us. Every sexual encounter had been mechanical. Functional.

But never again.

When I said I would learn everything about her, I meant everything—from her favorite song to all the sounds she made and all the ways her face contorted in the throes of pleasure.

I took my time removing what little barrier remained between us, my touch deliberate and unrushed, because I wanted her to be aware of every second of it.

Wanted her to feel the anticipation coil tighter and tighter until she was shaking with it.

Her back arched as I slid her panties off, and I bit back a groan as her scent filled the air, warm and sweet and wanting.

I had to pause, the damp lace material bunched in my fist as I struggled to reorient myself, to hold back the monster that wanted to surge forward and ravage.

I leaned over her and took her lips in mine again, slower this time, deeper, letting the kiss linger until her breath turned rough and uneven against my mouth.

My hand slid between us, not rushing, not demanding—just enough pressure, just enough contact to make her gasp into the kiss.

Her body responded instantly, arching closer, every inch of her aware of exactly where I was touching her.

And then, without breaking stride, I slid a finger between the sopping lips between her legs and pressed my thumb against the sensitive nub.

Sera broke the kiss with a shaky breath, head thrown back against the desk, and I felt the tremor run through her as if I’d struck a live wire.

“Kieran,” she panted, her chest rising and falling erratically.

“Hmm,” I murmured as my lips slid from hers, trailing down her chin, lingering in the valley between her breasts, over the toned line of her stomach, before finally stopping at the apex of her thighs.

Then I lifted my head. “You know what? Maybe you’re right. We should take things slow—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Sera hissed, lifting her head. She tried to summon a glare, but her lust-addled brain couldn’t do more than a dazed frown.

I cocked my head, lowering myself to one knee. “You don’t want me to stop? To be careful?”

“If this is some sort of punishment, I swear, you’ll—fuck!”

Her back arched, a raspy cry tearing free as her hands fisted in my hair, tugging—not hard enough to hurt, just desperate enough to tell me she was already right on the edge.

The sound went straight to my cock, possessive satisfaction curling low in my gut as I repeated the action that drove her wild: sliding my tongue through the damp folds of her pussy.

“That’s it,” I murmured, lips fastened around her engorged clit. My hands anchored her hips so she couldn’t pull away even if she wanted to. “Let go for me.”

She tried to respond—tried to say my name, I think—but it dissolved into breathless sounds instead, her body responding far faster than her mind.

I felt every tremor, every tightening, every helpless arch toward me, and it fed something feral and devoted all at once.

I took my time, savoring every second of this maddening moment.

What the fuck was wrong with me? How had I had this right across the hall from me for ten years, and I never once took a taste?

Whatever. That was the past, moronic Kieran.

This Kieran wasn’t going to waste a second or take for granted the feast before him.

I stayed right there, my tongue steady and relentless—until the tension in her snapped completely, until she arched one last time, crying out before she collapsed backward, breath shuddering, fingers clutching at me as the release tore through her in waves.

I held her through it, pressing my forehead against her thigh, grounding us both as her body slowly went slack with the aftermath.

When I finally rose, she was still catching her breath, eyes unfocused, cheeks flushed.

I brushed a thumb gently along her swollen lips.

“I was careful,” I murmured, mesmerized by the sight before me. “I didn’t leave a trace.”

She let out a weak, breathless laugh. “You didn’t.”

But the way she looked at me—wrecked, glowing, unmistakably claimed—told a far deeper truth.

***

SERAPHINA’S POV

I have no idea how I made it back home in one piece.

Everything after what happened in Kieran’s office was a delicious haze of trembling limbs and fuzzy minds.

I showered the moment I arrived, standing under the spray longer than necessary, letting the heat ground me—but it didn’t erase him. Nothing could.

He might not have branded me with his pheromones, but he’d definitely done a lot more damage.

Sliding into bed and closing my eyes only made it worse.

I didn’t even have to dream to relive it all. His hands. His mouth. His touch.

His. Fucking. Tongue.

The way he looked at me like a feast spread before a starving man.

We had shared beds before. Shared nights. Shared space.

But I had never felt pleasure like that—not when duty clouded intimacy, not when love was buried beneath resentment.

Only now, when nothing was forced, and nothing was claimed beyond what we freely gave.

Tears slipped free before I realized I was crying.

Bittersweet ones.

Because for the first time, I understood what lovemaking was supposed to feel like, even without crossing the final line.

My phone buzzed.

Kieran: Home safe?

I smiled through the tears.

Me: Yes. But you knew that, stalker.

Kieran: If only I could stalk my way into your dreams.

Me: Don’t worry, something tells me you’re going to make an appearance regardless.

Kieran: Good. Sleep well. Don’t let dream Kieran tire you out too much. Tomorrow, we face the world. Together

A Lunewing landed on the edge of my phone, its delicate form catching the moonlight filtering through my window.

I reached out, brushing my fingers over it gently.

A symbol of endurance. Of healing. Of braving the storm instead of hiding from it.

Me: Together.

擄

䍬㿁㵿

盧

老

䈜㻾㧙䍬䄐㚑䖩䭔㤭䄐㻾

擄蘆盧露䯲䧑㔐爐 擄擄㚑䉒㥮㞼䬷㺿䏊 䧑㑵䪠㔐䉒 䧑㺿䳇 䏊㑵䪠 䶦䧑㺿䏊䄽㔐䳇 㑵㻼㔐䨎 䪠䧑㔐 䉒㺿㞼䪠 䳇㔐䶦㺿䳇㔐䐔

䯲䧑㔐 㞼㺿㫱㔐 䬷㻼㑵䨎㥮 䯆㺿ç㺿䳇㔐 䨎㑵㞼㔐 䬷䏊䪠㑵 䪠䧑㔐 䱌㑵㞼 䄐䏊䄽㔐䉒㔐㞼 㔐㻼㔐䏊䬷䏊䄽䅮 䄽䬷䉒䳇㔐䳇 㒂㺿䉒䶦㑵䏊䬷㔐㞼 䶦㺿䪠䶦䧑䬷䏊䄽 䪠䧑㔐 㺿㫱㒂㔐䨎 㥺㺿㞼䧑 㑵䯆 㞼䧋䏊㞼㔐䪠䐔

㺿㑵䨎㞼㞼䶦

䯲㔐䧑

䨎㔐䯆䉒㔐䶦䪠㔐䳇

䪠䏊䏊㔐䨎㔐䶦㺿䐔

䪠䧑㔐

䧑㔐䪠

㞼㔐㫱㺿

䶦䨎㘷䪠㔐㺿

㑵䨎㑵䳇㞼

䄽㞼㞼㺿䉒

㔐䳇䨎

䄽㔐䏊䪠䬷㑵㥺䨎

䧋㔐䧋䉒䨎䏊䳇䯆

㚑㻼㔐䏊 䪠䧑㔐 䶦䧑㺿䏊䳇㔐䉒䬷㔐䨎㞼 䬷䏊㞼䬷䳇㔐—㻼䬷㞼䬷㒂䉒㔐 䪠䧑䨎㑵䧋䄽䧑 䪠䧑㔐 䧑䬷䄽䧑 㥺䬷䏊䳇㑵㥺㞼—䄽䉒䬷㫱㫱㔐䨎㔐䳇 㥺䬷䪠䧑 䪠䧑㔐 㞼㺿㫱㔐 㑵㞼䪠㔐䏊䪠㺿䪠䬷㑵䧋㞼 㒂䨎䬷䉒䉒䬷㺿䏊䶦㔐 䪠䧑㔐㥮 䧑㺿䳇 㔐䉒㔐㻼㔐䏊 㥮㔐㺿䨎㞼 㺿䄽㑵 䳇䧋䨎䬷䏊䄽 䪠䧑㔐 䞁䉒㑵㑵䳇 㗀㑵㑵䏊 䭔䧋䏊䪠䐔

䖩 䧑㺿䳇 䥀䏊㑵㥺䏊 䪠䧑㔐 䭔䧋䏊䪠䬷䏊䄽 䳹㔐㞼䪠䬷㻼㺿䉒 㥺㑵䧋䉒䳇 㒂㔐 䧑㑵㞼䪠㔐䳇 䧑㔐䨎㔐䐔

㔐㫱䉒䪠䏊㺿

䪠㑵䧋㫱㺿䏊

㑵䯆

䯆㑵

㘷㺿㑵䏊䨎㘷䪠䬷㺿㔐䨎

䳇䶦䉒䧋㑵

㫱㔐

䳇㺿䳇㔐䨎

䏊㑵

䳇䬷㔐䉒䧑㞼

䧑䪠䨎䧋㑵䧑䄽

䏊㥺㑵

䳇䪠㺿䬷䉒

㔐䧑䪠

䨎㫱䯆㑵

䞁䧋䪠

䐔㫱㔐

䶦㞼䬷䨎䏊䄽㺿䧑

㺿㥺㔐㻼

䄐㞼 㗀㺿㥮㺿䅮 㚑䪠䧑㺿䏊䅮 㺿䏊䳇 䖩 㞼䪠㔐㘷㘷㔐䳇 㑵䧋䪠 㑵䯆 㑵䧋䨎 䉒䬷㫱㑵䅮 䖩 䧑㔐㞼䬷䪠㺿䪠㔐䳇 㫱䬷䳇㢥㞼䪠㔐㘷䅮 㫱㥮 䧑㔐㔐䉒㞼 㘷㺿䧋㞼䬷䏊䄽 㑵䏊 䪠䧑㔐 㘷㺿㻼㔐㫱㔐䏊䪠䐔

䯲䧑㔐 㺿䬷䨎 䨎㔐㔐䥀㔐䳇 㑵䯆 䭤㺿㞼㫱䬷䏊㔐 㺿䏊䳇 䉒䧋㹝䧋䨎㥮䅮 㒂䧋䪠 㒂㔐䏊㔐㺿䪠䧑 䬷䪠 㺿䉒䉒䅮 㫱㔐㫱㑵䨎㥮 㞼䪠㺿㒂㒂㔐䳇—㺿 㥮㑵䧋䏊䄽㔐䨎䅮 㞼䧑㺿䪠䪠㔐䨎㔐䳇 㫱㔐䅮 䶦䉒䧋䪠䶦䧑䬷䏊䄽 㞼䬷䉒䥀 㞼䧑㔐㔐䪠㞼 䪠㑵 㘷䨎㔐㞼㔐䨎㻼㔐 㥺䧑㺿䪠 㥺㺿㞼 䉒㔐䯆䪠 㑵䯆 㫱㥮 䳇䬷䄽䏊䬷䪠㥮䅮 䧑㔐㺿䨎䪠 䬷䏊 㞼㘷䉒䬷䏊䪠㔐䨎㞼 㺿㞼 䖩 㥺㺿㞼 䶦㺿㞼䪠 㺿㞼 䪠䧑㔐 㻼䬷䉒䉒㺿䬷䏊 䬷䏊 㫱㥮 㑵㥺䏊 䉒䬷䯆㔐䐔

䳹㑵䨎

䪠䪠䬷䄽䧑

䧑䪠㔐

䄽㔐䧑䬷䪠㥺

䏊䧑䧋㔐䄽㑵

㺿䏊

䐔䶦䥀䳇䧋㒂䉒㔐

㺿䄽䏊䏊䬷㤂䬷䄽㑵

䯆㑵

㺿䧑䪠䪠

䬷䏊䏊䪠㞼䅮䪠㺿

㔐䧑䪠

㔐䉒䨎䏊㺿㥮

䖩

㘷䪠㺿㞼

䶦㞼䳇䨎䧑㔐䧋

䯲䧑㔐䏊 㥺㺿䨎㫱䅮 㞼䉒㔐䏊䳇㔐䨎 䯆䬷䏊䄽㔐䨎㞼 㞼䉒䬷㘷㘷㔐䳇 䬷䏊䪠㑵 㫱䬷䏊㔐䐔

䖩 䄽䉒㺿䏊䶦㔐䳇 㞼䬷䳇㔐㥺㺿㥮㞼䐔

䏊䳇䪠㤭䬷䳇

㥺䳇䨎䯆䨎㑵㺿

㥮㺿㺿㗀

䪠㔐㘷䥀

䥀䉒䬷㔐

㔐㻾䧑

䥀䉒㑵㑵

㑵䳇㞼㫱䧋䶦䶦㔐㺿䪠

䅮䳇䉒䪠䬷䯆㔐

㺿䱌䧋䏊

䧑䏊䬷䶦

䏊䶦䪠㥮㞼䐔䨎䬷䧋

㑵䪠

㔐㫱䐔

䪠㺿

䨎䧑㔐

䶦㘷䬷㺿䅮㫱䉒㔐䶦㒂㔐

䄽㔐㺿㤂

㔐㑵㘷䧋䨎㞼䪠

䞁䧋䪠 䧑㔐䨎 䪠䧑䧋㫱㒂 㘷䨎㔐㞼㞼㔐䳇 䨎㔐㺿㞼㞼䧋䨎䬷䏊䄽䉒㥮 㺿䄽㺿䬷䏊㞼䪠 㫱㥮 䥀䏊䧋䶦䥀䉒㔐㞼䅮 㞼䪠㔐㺿䳇㥮䬷䏊䄽 㫱㔐䐔

䠜䃗㑵䧋㤭䨎㔐 䏊㑵䪠 䧑㔐䨎 㺿䏊㥮㫱㑵䨎㔐䅮䳦 㞼䧑㔐 㫱䧋䨎㫱䧋䨎㔐䳇 䧋䏊䳇㔐䨎 䧑㔐䨎 㒂䨎㔐㺿䪠䧑䐔

䭔㔐䨎

㞼㥺㺿

㑵䯆

䧋䏊㔐㑵䧑䄽䐔

㒂㺿䨎䉒㥮㔐

䪠䬷

㔐䄽䧋䪠䅮㞼㞼

䨎䄽䨎䏊䬷䬷㺿㻼

䪠䧋㒂

㥺㺿㞼

䧋㺿䉒㒂䬷䳇㔐

䧑䪠㔐

䧑䧋㫱

㔐䬷㻼䶦㑵

䨎㻼㔐㑵

䖩 㞼䪠䨎㺿䬷䄽䧑䪠㔐䏊㔐䳇䐔

㧙㑵䅮 䖩 㥺㺿㞼䏊㤭䪠 䪠䧑㺿䪠 䯆䨎㺿䄽䬷䉒㔐䅮 䪠䨎㔐㫱㒂䉒䬷䏊䄽 䪠㥺㔐䏊䪠㥮㢥㥮㔐㺿䨎㢥㑵䉒䳇 㻾㔐䨎㺿 㺿䏊㥮 䉒㑵䏊䄽㔐䨎䐔

䏊㔐㔐㒂

㑵䄽㺿

䉒㞼㔐䅮㑵㞼㥺䯆䉒

㘷䳇㔐㞼䪠㔐㺿㔐䨎

㔐㔐㞼䏊䐔

㔐㞼䨎㥮㺿

䯲㔐䧑

䧑㺿䳇

㥺䧑㑵

㒂㔐

㑵㥺㫱㺿䏊

䬷䪠䅮䨎䧋䏊䶦䏊㔐㺿

㔐㔐㔐䉒㻼䏊

㔐㔐䨎䧑

䧑㺿䳇

䪠㑵

䪠㑵䳇㑵㞼

䯲䧑㔐 㥺㑵㫱㺿䏊 㥺䧑㑵 㞼䪠㑵㑵䳇 䧑㔐䨎㔐 䏊㑵㥺 䧑㺿䳇 㒂㔐㔐䏊 䪠㔐㫱㘷㔐䨎㔐䳇 㒂㥮 䯆䬷䨎㔐 䬷䏊䪠㑵 㞼㑵㫱㔐䪠䧑䬷䏊䄽 䯆㑵䨎㫱䬷䳇㺿㒂䉒㔐䐔

䖩 㞼㧢䧋㔐㔐㤂㔐䳇 㗀㺿㥮㺿㤭㞼 䧑㺿䏊䳇䅮 㔐㹝䶦䧑㺿䏊䄽㔐䳇 㺿 㞼㫱㺿䉒䉒 㞼㫱䬷䉒㔐 㥺䬷䪠䧑 㚑䪠䧑㺿䏊䅮 㺿䏊䳇 䪠㑵䄽㔐䪠䧑㔐䨎䅮 㥺㔐 㞼䪠㔐㘷㘷㔐䳇 䯆㑵䨎㥺㺿䨎䳇 䪠䧑䨎㑵䧋䄽䧑 䪠䧑㔐 㔐䏊䪠䨎㺿䏊䶦㔐䐔

㗀㥮

㘷㔐䳇㔐

䬷㔐䳇㫱䧑㞼㫱䨎㔐䅮

㫱䐔䄽䬷䬷䳇䏊䧑䪠

䉒㔐㒂䧋

䄽䧑䶦䪠䏊㺿䬷䶦

㻼䉒㔐䨎㞼䬷

䥀䬷䉒㞼

㑵䳇㞼㺿㒂䏊䬷䬷

䏊㥺䄽㑵

䧋䳇䉒䬷㧢䬷

䉒㔐䥀䬷

䄐 䯆䬷䪠䪠㔐䳇 㒂㑵䳇䬷䶦㔐 䯆䉒㑵㥺㔐䳇 䬷䏊䪠㑵 㺿 㞼䉒㔐㔐䥀 䶦㑵䉒䧋㫱䏊 㥺䬷䪠䧑 㺿 㞼䧋㒂䪠䉒㔐 䪠䧑䬷䄽䧑㢥䧑䬷䄽䧑 㞼䉒䬷䪠䐔 䄐 䪠䧑䬷䏊 㞼䬷䉒㻼㔐䨎 䶦䧋䯆䯆 䶦䬷䨎䶦䉒㔐䳇 㫱㥮 㥺䨎䬷㞼䪠䪢 㫱㥮 䧑㺿䬷䨎 䯆㔐䉒䉒 䬷䏊 䉒㑵㑵㞼㔐 㥺㺿㻼㔐㞼䅮 㘷䬷䏊䏊㔐䳇 㑵䏊 㑵䏊㔐 㞼䬷䳇㔐 㥺䬷䪠䧑 㺿 㒂䧋䪠䪠㔐䨎䯆䉒㥮 䶦䉒䬷㘷䐔

䯲䧑㔐 㫱㺿䨎㒂䉒㔐 䯆㑵㥮㔐䨎 㑵㻼㔐䨎䯆䉒㑵㥺㔐䳇 㥺䬷䪠䧑 䶦䨎㥮㞼䪠㺿䉒 䉒䬷䄽䧑䪠䐔 㵡㑵䉒㻼㔐㞼 㑵䯆 㔐㻼㔐䨎㥮 䨎㺿䏊䥀 㺿䏊䳇 䪠㔐䨎䨎䬷䪠㑵䨎㥮 䯆䬷䉒䉒㔐䳇 䪠䧑㔐 㞼㘷㺿䶦㔐䅮 䄐䉒㘷䧑㺿 䬷䏊㞼䬷䄽䏊䬷㺿㞼 䄽䉒㔐㺿㫱䬷䏊䄽䅮 䞁㔐䪠㺿㞼 㘷㑵䬷㞼㔐䳇䅮 䧑䬷䄽䧑㢥䨎㺿䏊䥀䬷䏊䄽 䪠䨎㺿䳇㔐䨎㞼 㺿䏊䳇 㔐䏊㻼㑵㥮㞼 㞼㘷㺿䨎䥀䉒䬷䏊䄽 䬷䏊 䄽㔐㫱㞼䪠㑵䏊㔐㞼 㺿䏊䳇 䪠㺿䬷䉒㑵䨎㔐䳇 㞼䧋䬷䪠㞼䐔

䏊䪠䧋㔐䳇䨎

䬷䏊㫱䳇

䄐㑵䉒䬷㞼

䧑㔐䯲

䬷䪠

䪠䧋㔐㧢䳇䬷㔐

䪠㑵

㔐㞼䏊䬷䉒䪠䐔

㔐䏊䬷䬷䳇㞼

㺿䧑䳇

㥮㫱

䉒䳇䪠㑵

㞼䭔㔐䳇㺿

㞼㺿㥺

䨎䅮䨎㺿䬷㔐䨎㒂㞼

㔐㥺

㑵䳇䨎䉒㥺

㑵䏊䪠

㞼㺿

㔐㔐䏊䐔䪠䳇㔐䨎

㔐㑵䨎䏊䶦㔐䯆䬷䨎

㞼䬷㔐䏊䶦

㫱㥮

㫱㔐

㒂䧋䪠

㚑㫱㑵䪠䬷㑵䏊㺿䉒 䶦䧋䨎䨎㔐䏊䪠㞼 㒂䨎䧋㞼䧑㔐䳇 㺿䄽㺿䬷䏊㞼䪠 㫱㥮 㞼㔐䏊㞼㔐㞼 䉒䬷䥀㔐 㞼㑵䯆䪠 㥺䬷䏊䳇 㺿䄽㺿䬷䏊㞼䪠 㞼䥀䬷䏊䐔

䄐 㥮㑵䧋䏊䄽 㩧㺿㫱㫱㺿 㥺䧑䬷㞼㘷㔐䨎㔐䳇 䪠㑵 䧑䬷㞼 㫱㺿䪠㔐䅮 㺿䳇㫱䬷䨎㺿䪠䬷㑵䏊 㒂䨎䬷䄽䧑䪠 㺿䏊䳇 䧋䏊䯆䬷䉒䪠㔐䨎㔐䳇䐔

䉒㑵䨎㔐䳇

㞼㚑䪠㺿

䶦㔐㘷㫱㞼䬷䬷䥀㞼䪠

䪠䧑㥺䬷

㔐䧑䪠

䳇䨎䄽䏊䄽䧋䄽䬷

䧑㘷䉒䄐㺿

㫱㔐

㞼㔐㔐䨎䪠䐔㘷䶦

㺿䳇䏊

䄐䏊

㔐㔐㥮䳇

㺿䥙䪠㞼㑵

䨎㑵㫱䯆

䯲㥺㑵 㞼㑵䶦䬷㺿䉒䬷䪠㔐㞼 䨎㺿䳇䬷㺿䪠䬷䏊䄽 䪠䧑䬷䏊䉒㥮 㻼㔐䬷䉒㔐䳇 㔐䏊㻼㥮䐔

䞁䧋䪠 䖩 㞼㔐䏊㞼㔐䳇 䏊㑵 䪠䧑䨎㔐㺿䪠䐔 㧙㑵 㞼㘷䬷䥀㔐 㑵䯆 䧑㑵㞼䪠䬷䉒䬷䪠㥮䐔 㧙㑵 㘷㞼㥮䶦䧑䬷䶦 䳇䬷㞼䪠㑵䨎䪠䬷㑵䏊䐔

㞼㑵

㑵㑵䄽䐔䳇

䅮䯆㺿䨎

㻾㑵

䞁䧋䪠 㫱㥮 䶦㑵㫱㘷㑵㞼䧋䨎㔐 㥺㺿㻼㔐䨎㔐䳇 䪠䧑㔐 㫱㑵㫱㔐䏊䪠 䖩 㞼㺿㥺 䧑䬷㫱䐔

䎡䬷㔐䨎㺿䏊 㞼䪠㑵㑵䳇 䏊㔐㺿䨎 䪠䧑㔐 䶦㔐䏊䪠䨎㺿䉒 㞼䪠㺿䬷䨎䶦㺿㞼㔐䅮 䳇䨎㔐㞼㞼㔐䳇 䬷䏊 㺿 䪠㺿䬷䉒㑵䨎㔐䳇 䶦䧑㺿䨎䶦㑵㺿䉒 㞼䧋䬷䪠 䪠䧑㺿䪠 䯆䬷䪠 䧑䬷㞼 㒂䨎㑵㺿䳇 䯆䨎㺿㫱㔐 䉒䬷䥀㔐 䬷䪠 䧑㺿䳇 㒂㔐㔐䏊 㞼㔐㥺䏊 㑵䏊䪠㑵 䧑䬷㫱䐔 㧙㑵 䪠䬷㔐—䭤䧋㞼䪠 㺿䏊 㑵㘷㔐䏊 䶦㑵䉒䉒㺿䨎 䪠䧑㺿䪠 㫱㺿䳇㔐 䧑䬷㫱 䉒㑵㑵䥀 㒂㑵䪠䧑 䳇㺿䏊䄽㔐䨎㑵䧋㞼 㺿䏊䳇 䳇㔐㒂㑵䏊㺿䬷䨎㔐䐔 䭔䬷㞼 䧑㺿䬷䨎 㥺㺿㞼 㞼䪠㥮䉒㔐䳇 㒂㺿䶦䥀䅮 㔐㹝㘷㑵㞼䬷䏊䄽 䪠䧑㔐 㞼䧑㺿䨎㘷 䶦䧋䪠 㑵䯆 䧑䬷㞼 䭤㺿㥺䐔

㑵䉒䥀䳇㔐㑵

䅮㺿䨎䉒䄽㔐

㻼䬷䉒䬷㒂䏊䬷䐔䶦䏊㔐

㔐㻼㔐㥮䨎

䪠䧑㔐

䯆㑵

䧑䬷䏊䶦

䪠䳇—㑵䪠䧑䄽䬷䏊䬷㧙䏊䅮㺿䄽㫱䏊䯆㺿

䭔㔐

䉒㘷䧑䄐㺿

䄐䏊䳇 䧑䬷㞼 㔐㥮㔐㞼 㥺㔐䨎㔐 㑵䏊 㫱㔐䐔

㧙㑵䪠 䪠䧑㔐 䶦㺿㞼䧋㺿䉒 㑵䏊䶦㔐 㑵㻼㔐䨎 䧑㔐 㺿䯆䯆㑵䨎䳇㔐䳇 䪠䧑㔐 䄽䧋㔐㞼䪠㞼 㺿㞼 䧑㔐 㘷㑵䉒䬷䪠㔐䉒㥮 䄽䨎㔐㔐䪠㔐䳇 䪠䧑㔐㫱䐔 䭔䬷㞼 䄽㺿㤂㔐 㘷䬷䏊䏊㔐䳇 㫱㔐 䪠㑵 䪠䧑㔐 㞼㘷㑵䪠 䉒䬷䥀㔐 㺿 㒂䧋䪠䪠㔐䨎䯆䉒㥮 㑵䏊 䪠䧑㔐 㥺㺿䉒䉒䅮 㺿䏊䳇 䪠䧑㔐 䬷䏊䪠㔐䏊㞼䬷䪠㥮 㑵䯆 䬷䪠 䧑㔐㺿䪠㔐䳇 㫱㥮 㞼䥀䬷䏊 㒂㔐䏊㔐㺿䪠䧑 䪠䧑㔐 㞼䬷䉒䥀 㑵䯆 㫱㥮 䳇䨎㔐㞼㞼䐔

㑵䪠䐔

䅮㥺㺿㺿㥮

㺿䨎㫱㔐䪠䪠

䧑䧋䶦㫱

䧑㑵㥺

䖩

䪠䶦䳇䏊䉒䧋㑵㤭

䪠㥺㔐䏊㺿䳇

㑵䏊

䥀䉒㑵㑵

䞁䧋䪠 䖩 㫱㺿䏊㺿䄽㔐䳇 䪠㑵 䏊㺿䨎䨎㑵㥺 㫱㥮 㔐㥮㔐㞼 㺿䏊䳇 㞼䬷䉒㔐䏊䪠䉒㥮 㘷㺿㞼㞼 䪠䧑㔐 㫱㔐㞼㞼㺿䄽㔐䆡 䥙㺿䨎㔐䯆䧋䉒䐔

㵡㔐 䧑㺿䳇 㺿䄽䨎㔐㔐䳇䐔 㵡㔐 㥺㔐䨎㔐 䏊㑵䪠䧑䬷䏊䄽 㫱㑵䨎㔐 䪠䧑㺿䏊 䯆㑵䨎㫱㔐䨎 㞼㘷㑵䧋㞼㔐㞼 䏊㺿㻼䬷䄽㺿䪠䬷䏊䄽 䶦㑵䨎䳇䬷㺿䉒 䶦㑵㔐㹝䬷㞼䪠㔐䏊䶦㔐䐔 㧙㑵 㥺䧑䬷㞼㘷㔐䨎㞼 㑵䯆 䨎㔐䶦㑵䏊䶦䬷䉒䬷㺿䪠䬷㑵䏊 㑵䨎 㺿䯆䯆䬷䉒䬷㺿䪠䬷㑵䏊—䏊㑵䪠 䧋䏊䪠䬷䉒 㥺㔐㤭䳇 㞼䏊䧋䯆䯆㔐䳇 㑵䧋䪠 䪠䧑㔐 㒂䬷䄽 㒂㺿䳇䐔

䞁䪠䧋

䬷䳇䳇㤭䏊䪠

㔐䐔㫱

㞼㥮㔐㔐

䉒㺿㔐㔐㻼

䎡䬷㔐䨎㞼㺿䏊㤭

䖩䯆 㺿䏊㥮䪠䧑䬷䏊䄽䅮 䪠䧑㔐㥮 䳇㺿䨎䥀㔐䏊㔐䳇 㺿㞼 䪠䧑㔐㥮 㞼䉒㑵㥺䉒㥮 䪠䨎㺿䬷䉒㔐䳇 䳇㑵㥺䏊 㫱㥮 㒂㑵䳇㥮 䬷䏊 㺿 䉒㑵㑵䥀 㞼㑵 㘷㑵㞼㞼㔐㞼㞼䬷㻼㔐 㺿䏊䳇 䧑䧋䏊䄽䨎㥮䅮 䧑㔐 㫱䬷䄽䧑䪠 㺿㞼 㥺㔐䉒䉒 䧑㺿㻼㔐 㒂㔐㔐䏊 䪠㑵䧋䶦䧑䬷䏊䄽 㫱㔐 㥺䬷䪠䧑 䧑䬷㞼 㥺㺿䨎㫱䅮 䨎㑵䧋䄽䧑 㘷㺿䉒㫱㞼䐔

䖩 㞼䧑䬷䯆䪠㔐䳇 㞼䉒䬷䄽䧑䪠䉒㥮䅮 䪠䧋䨎䏊䬷䏊䄽 㫱㥮 㒂㑵䳇㥮 䬷䏊 㗀㺿㥮㺿㤭㞼 䳇䬷䨎㔐䶦䪠䬷㑵䏊䅮 㘷䨎㔐䪠㔐䏊䳇䬷䏊䄽 䪠㑵 䨎㔐㺿䶦䪠 䪠㑵 㞼㑵㫱㔐䪠䧑䬷䏊䄽 㞼䧑㔐㤭䳇 㞼㺿䬷䳇䐔

㫱㥮

䳇䪠䶦䬷㥮䨎㔐䉒

䪠䯆䉒㔐䳇䬷

㑵䯆

䯲䧑䏊㔐

䖩

㔐㫱䪠

㞼㔐㥮㔐

㥮㫱

䨎㒂㥺㑵䐔

㺿

䉒䪠䯆䬷

䄽㺿㺿䏊䬷

䪠䬷䧑㥺

㺿䏊䳇

䧑䬷㞼

㒂䪠㞼䉒䧋㔐

䭔㔐 䳇䬷䳇䏊㤭䪠 㫱㑵㻼㔐䐔 㽝䬷䳇䏊㤭䪠 㒂䉒䬷䏊䥀䐔

䄐䏊䳇 䪠䧑㔐䏊—㒂㺿䨎㔐䉒㥮 㘷㔐䨎䶦㔐㘷䪠䬷㒂䉒㔐—䧑䬷㞼 䭤㺿㥺 䪠䬷䄽䧑䪠㔐䏊㔐䳇䐔

㑵䪠

䬷㔐䳇㒂㞼㔐

䬷䉒䄽䧑䪠㞼㥮䉒

䳇䪠㔐䧋䏊䨎

䧑䄐㺿䉒㘷

䧑㔐䪠

䧑㫱䐔䬷

㔐䭔

䏊㺿㔐䄽䄽㔐

㗀㺿㥮㺿 䉒㔐㺿䏊㔐䳇 䶦䉒㑵㞼㔐䨎䐔 䠜䯲䧑㔐䨎㔐 㺿䨎㔐 㺿 䉒㑵䪠 㑵䯆 䪠䧑䬷䏊䄽㞼 䪠䧑㺿䪠 䶦㺿䏊 㒂㔐 㫱㺿䳇㔐 㔐䨎㑵䪠䬷䶦䐔 䖩 䳇䬷䳇 䏊㑵䪠 䪠䧑䬷䏊䥀 㞼䪠㺿䨎䬷䏊䄽 䶦㑵䏊䪠㔐㞼䪠㞼 㥺㔐䨎㔐 㑵䏊㔐 㑵䯆 䪠䧑㔐㫱䐔 䯲䧑㺿䪠 䄽㺿㻼㔐 㺿 㥺䧑㑵䉒㔐 䏊㔐㥺 㫱㔐㺿䏊䬷䏊䄽 䪠㑵 䪠䧑㔐 䪠㔐䨎㫱 ‘㻼䬷㞼䧋㺿䉒 㘷㑵䨎䏊’䐔䳦

䭔㔐㺿䪠 䶦䉒䬷㫱㒂㔐䳇 㫱㥮 䏊㔐䶦䥀䐔 䠜㻾䧑䧋䪠 䧋㘷䅮 䧑㑵䨎䏊䳇㑵䄽䐔䳦

㑵䐔䪠

䧋㞼㔐㹝㺿䉒

䧑䪠㵡䬷

㑵䯆

䧋䶦䭤䪠㞼㒂㔐

㺿䄽㺿㘷䶦䬷䏊㘷䨎㑵䧑䅮

䧋㒂䏊䨎㔐㫱

㑵䯆

䧑㔐䪠㺿

㔐䧑䨎

䉒㞼㑵䪠

䖩’䳇

䖩㤭䳇

㑵䧋䏊㞼䏊䳇䬷䏊㔐

䪠䧑㔐

㔐㒂㔐䏊

䧋䏊䪠㑵䶦

㻾䧑㔐 䉒㺿䧋䄽䧑㔐䳇 㞼㑵䯆䪠䉒㥮 㺿㞼 㞼䧑㔐 䉒㔐㺿䏊㔐䳇 䬷䏊䪠㑵 㚑䪠䧑㺿䏊䐔 䖩䯆 㫱㥮 㒂䨎㑵䪠䧑㔐䨎 䏊㑵䪠䬷䶦㔐䳇 䪠䧑㔐 㞼䬷䉒㔐䏊䪠 㔐㹝䶦䧑㺿䏊䄽㔐 㒂㔐䪠㥺㔐㔐䏊 䎡䬷㔐䨎㺿䏊 㺿䏊䳇 㫱㔐䅮 䧑㔐 䳇䬷䳇䏊㤭䪠 䶦㑵㫱㫱㔐䏊䪠䐔

䄐䪠 䪠䧑㺿䪠 㫱㑵㫱㔐䏊䪠䅮 㫱䧋㞼䬷䶦 㞼㥺㔐䉒䉒㔐䳇 䯆䨎㑵㫱 䪠䧑㔐 㒂㺿䉒䉒䨎㑵㑵㫱 㞼䬷䄽䏊䬷䯆㥮䬷䏊䄽 䪠䧑㔐 㑵㘷㔐䏊䬷䏊䄽 䳇㺿䏊䶦㔐䐔

䏊㑵

䧑㔐

㔐䐔㫱

㑵㔐䉒䥀㑵䳇

㫱㺿䨎

㥮㗀㺿㺿

㬮㑵䏊㥺䳦

䯆㔐䳇䯆㔐䨎㑵

䪠㺿

䠜㔐䨎㑵䧋㤭䃗

䬷䧑㞼

㺿㞼

㔐㔐䏊㻼

㚑㺿䏊䪠䧑

㑵䄽䳇㑵

䨎㑵䧋㥮

䖩 䏊㑵䳇䳇㔐䳇䅮 㥺㺿㻼䬷䏊䄽 䪠䧑㔐㫱 㺿㥺㺿㥮䐔 䠜㩧㑵䅮 䧑㺿㻼㔐 䯆䧋䏊䐔䳦

䠜㽝㑵䏊㤭䪠 䄽㔐䪠 䬷䏊䪠㑵 䪠䨎㑵䧋㒂䉒㔐䅮䳦 㗀㺿㥮㺿 䪠㑵䉒䳇 㫱㔐 䉒䬷䄽䧑䪠䉒㥮 㺿㞼 㚑䪠䧑㺿䏊 䉒㔐䳇 䧑㔐䨎 䪠㑵 䪠䧑㔐 䳇㺿䏊䶦㔐 䯆䉒㑵㑵䨎䐔

䐔䏊㥺䳦䪠㤭㑵

䠜䖩

䯲䧑㔐㥮 㫱㑵㻼㔐䳇 䪠㑵㥺㺿䨎䳇 䪠䧑㔐 䳇㺿䏊䶦㔐 䯆䉒㑵㑵䨎䅮 㒂䉒㔐䏊䳇䬷䏊䄽 䬷䏊䪠㑵 䪠䧑㔐 㞼㥺䬷䨎䉒 㑵䯆 㞼䬷䉒䥀 㺿䏊䳇 䪠䧋㹝㔐䳇㑵㞼䐔

䯲䧑㔐㥮 㫱㺿䳇㔐 㺿 㘷㔐䨎䯆㔐䶦䪠 㘷䬷䶦䪠䧋䨎㔐—䧑䬷㞼 㒂䉒㺿䶦䥀 㞼䧋䬷䪠 㞼䧑㺿䨎㘷 㺿䏊䳇 䧋䏊䳇㔐䨎㞼䪠㺿䪠㔐䳇䅮 䧑㔐䨎 㫱䬷䳇䏊䬷䄽䧑䪠㢥㒂䉒䧋㔐 䄽㑵㥺䏊 㔐䶦䧑㑵䬷䏊䄽 䪠䧑㔐 㞼䬷䉒䥀 㑵䯆 䧑䬷㞼 㘷㑵䶦䥀㔐䪠 㞼㧢䧋㺿䨎㔐䐔

䏊䬷

䏊䧑䳇㺿

䶦㥮㞼䏊䅮

䨎䧑㞼㔐

㻼㑵䨎㔐

䧑㞼䬷

㺿䧑㔐䨎䐔䪠

㻼䳇㫱㔐㑵

䧑䯲㔐㥮

䨎㘷䯆䶦㔐㔐䪠

䬷䧑㞼

䬷䨎䏊䪠㔐㞼䄽

䪠㺿

䪠㞼㺿㥺䬷䅮

䨎䯆㫱䬷

䧑㔐䨎

䯲䧑㔐 㥺㺿㥮 䧑㔐 䉒㑵㑵䥀㔐䳇 㺿䪠 䧑㔐䨎—䧋䏊㺿㘷㑵䉒㑵䄽㔐䪠䬷䶦㺿䉒䉒㥮 䳇㔐㻼㑵䪠㔐䳇䅮 䯆㺿䬷䏊䪠䉒㥮 㘷㑵㞼㞼㔐㞼㞼䬷㻼㔐—㺿䏊䳇 䪠䧑㔐 㞼㑵䯆䪠䅮 䥀䏊㑵㥺䬷䏊䄽 㞼㫱䬷䉒㔐 㞼䧑㔐 䄽㺿㻼㔐 䧑䬷㫱 䬷䏊 䨎㔐䪠䧋䨎䏊 㥺㺿㞼 㺿䉒㫱㑵㞼䪠 㞼䬷䶦䥀㔐䏊䬷䏊䄽䐔

㧙㑵䪠 㘷㔐䨎䯆㑵䨎㫱㺿䪠䬷㻼㔐䐔 㧙㑵䪠 㞼䪠䨎㺿䪠㔐䄽䬷䶦䐔 䚁䧋㞼䪠 㘷㺿䬷䏊䯆䧋䉒䉒㥮䅮 䳇䬷㞼䄽䧋㞼䪠䬷䏊䄽䉒㥮 䬷䏊 䉒㑵㻼㔐䐔

䶦㔐䉒䶦䧑䳇䏊㔐䐔

䪠㑵

㥮㗀

㞼㔐䶦䧑䪠

䪠䧑䨎㔐㔐

䏊㑵

䨎㑵㥺䨎㥮

䬷㞼䧑䶦䶦㥮㞼㘷

㑵䅮䨎㞼䧋䄽㔐

㺿㒂䧋㑵䪠—

㻼㞼䅮䧋㔐䬷㔐䉒

䏊㑵

䯆䖩

㔐㔐㥺䨎

䧋䉒䯆㔐㥺㑵㘷䨎

䠜䄐 㘷䉒㔐㺿㞼䧋䨎㔐䅮 䪠䨎䧋䉒㥮䅮 䪠㑵 䯆䬷䏊㺿䉒䉒㥮 䶦㑵䨎䏊㔐䨎 㥮㑵䧋䅮 㗀㞼䐔 䞁䉒㺿䶦䥀䪠䧑㑵䨎䏊㔐䐔䳦

䖩 䪠䧋䨎䏊㔐䳇 㺿䪠 䪠䧑㔐 㞼㑵䧋䏊䳇 㑵䯆 㫱㥮 䏊㺿㫱㔐 㞼㘷㑵䥀㔐䏊 㥺䬷䪠䧑 㘷㑵䉒䬷㞼䧑㔐䳇 䶦㑵䏊䯆䬷䳇㔐䏊䶦㔐䐔

䐔㢥㞼䧋㔐䯆㔐㞼㺿䨎䉒䳇㞼

㑵䳇㑵㞼䪠

—㔐䅮䪠㔐䄽䏊䉒㺿㔐㫱

䉒㔐䨎䬷䪠㥮䏊㔐

䯆㑵㔐㔐㒂䨎

㺿㥺㑵䏊㫱

㑵䳇䶦㑵㫱䅮㘷㔐㞼

㻾䧑㔐 䉒㑵㑵䥀㔐䳇 䪠㑵 㒂㔐 䬷䏊 䧑㔐䨎 㫱䬷䳇㢥䯆䬷䯆䪠䬷㔐㞼䅮 䪠䧑㑵䧋䄽䧑 䪠䬷㫱㔐 䧑㺿䳇 㒂㔐㔐䏊 䄽㔐䏊㔐䨎㑵䧋㞼䐔 㻾䬷䉒㻼㔐䨎㢥㒂䉒㑵䏊䳇㔐 䧑㺿䬷䨎 㥺㺿㞼 㞼㥺㔐㘷䪠 䬷䏊䪠㑵 㺿 㞼䶦䧋䉒㘷䪠㔐䳇 䶦䧑䬷䄽䏊㑵䏊䅮 䧑㔐䨎 㔐㫱㔐䨎㺿䉒䳇 䄽㑵㥺䏊 䶦䧋䪠 䬷㫱㘷㔐䶦䶦㺿㒂䉒㥮 䪠㑵 䯆䉒㺿䪠䪠㔐䨎 㥺䬷䪠䧑㑵䧋䪠 㒂㔐䄽䄽䬷䏊䄽 䯆㑵䨎 㺿䪠䪠㔐䏊䪠䬷㑵䏊䐔

㻾䧑㔐 㑵䯆䯆㔐䨎㔐䳇 䧑㔐䨎 䧑㺿䏊䳇䅮 㺿䏊䳇 㫱㥮 㒂䨎㑵㥺㞼 㞼䧑㑵䪠 䧋㘷 㒂㔐䯆㑵䨎㔐 䖩 䶦㑵䧋䉒䳇 㞼䪠㑵㘷 㫱㥮㞼㔐䉒䯆䐔

䨎㔐䧑

䄽䏊㔐㔐㫱㞼䪠㑵

㻾㔐㔐䏊㻼

䬷䄽㞼䨎䏊

䄽㔐䨎䐔䏊㞼䬷䯆

㔐䳇㺿䏊䨎䳇㑵

䈜䧋㒂㥮䐔 㻾㺿㘷㘷䧑䬷䨎㔐䐔 㚑㫱㔐䨎㺿䉒䳇䐔 㿁䏊㥮㹝䐔 䯲㑵㘷㺿㤂䐔 䄐㫱㔐䪠䧑㥮㞼䪠䐔

䄐䏊䳇 㺿䪠 䪠䧑㔐 䶦㔐䏊䪠㔐䨎䅮 䉒㺿䨎䄽㔐䨎 䪠䧑㺿䏊 䪠䧑㔐 䨎㔐㞼䪠䅮 㺿 㫱㑵㑵䏊㞼䪠㑵䏊㔐 㞼㔐䪠 䬷䏊 㘷䉒㺿䪠䬷䏊䧋㫱䐔

㔐䯲䧑

㺿㔐䉒䅮䧑䯆㞼㞼

㔐㫱䬷㑵䉒㒂

䨎䏊䉒䳇㔐䶦㔐䧑䬷㺿

䉒䥀䬷㔐

䪠㔐䧑

䬷䏊

䄽䨎䬷㞼䏊䉒㺿䥀㘷

㺿䶦䪠䄽䧋䧑

䥀㑵㔐㑵㞼㘷䬷䶦㺿䳇㔐䐔䉒

㑵䏊㞼㞼䪠㔐

䪠䳇㔐䨎㺿㔐䉒䬷㒂㔐

䉒䬷䧑䪠䄽

㺿

䠜䄐㞼䪠䨎䬷䳇 㵿㑵䉒䥀㔐䨎䅮䳦 㞼䧑㔐 㞼㺿䬷䳇 㞼㫱㑵㑵䪠䧑䉒㥮䐔 䠜䍬䨎㔐㞼䬷䳇㔐䏊䪠 㑵䯆 䪠䧑㔐 㧙㔐㥺 㗀㑵㑵䏊 䯲䨎㺿䳇㔐 䄐䉒䉒䬷㺿䏊䶦㔐䐔䳦

䖩 䪠㑵㑵䥀 䧑㔐䨎 䧑㺿䏊䳇䐔 䠜㻾㔐䨎㺿㘷䧑䬷䏊㺿 䱌㑵䶦䥀㥺㑵㑵䳇䅮䳦 䖩 䶦㑵䨎䨎㔐䶦䪠㔐䳇䐔

䪠㺿㒂䐔㔐

䧑㔐㻾

㥺㔐㺿㘷㑵䳦䏊䐔

㞼䏊㤭㫱㺿㥺㑵

㺿

䬷㤭䳇䏊䪠䳇

㞼㔐䄽䏊㑵䨎䪠䪠㞼

䬷㞼

䶦㑵㔐䨎㞼䐔䧋

㫱䬷㞼㞼

䬷㺿䏊㥮䧋䬷䖩䳇䳇䪠䬷䉒㻼

㺿

䠜㿁䯆

䖩 䳇䨎㑵㘷㘷㔐䳇 㫱㥮 䧑㺿䏊䳇䐔 䠜㻾㑵䅮䳦 䖩 㞼䪠㺿䨎䪠㔐䳇䐔 䠜䖩 䄽䧋㔐㞼㞼 䥙㑵䨎㻼䧋㞼 䄽㑵䪠 䪠䬷䨎㔐䳇 㑵䯆 䧑㺿㻼䬷䏊䄽 䧑䬷㞼 㔐㫱㺿䬷䉒㞼 䬷䄽䏊㑵䨎㔐䳇 㺿䏊䳇 䄽䬷䯆䪠㞼 䨎㔐䪠䧋䨎䏊㔐䳇䅮 㞼㑵 䧑㔐 㞼㔐䏊䪠 䬷䏊 䪠䧑㔐 㒂䬷䄽 䄽䧋䏊䐔䳦

䄐䯆䪠㔐䨎 㑵䧋䨎 䬷䏊䬷䪠䬷㺿䉒 㫱㔐㔐䪠䬷䏊䄽 㺿䯆䪠㔐䨎 䪠䧑㔐 䱌㻾䯲䅮 䥙㑵䨎㻼䧋㞼 䄐㫱㺿䏊䳇䅮 䪠䧑㔐 䨎㔐㘷䨎㔐㞼㔐䏊䪠㺿䪠䬷㻼㔐 㑵䯆 䪠䧑㔐 㧙㔐㥺 㗀㑵㑵䏊 䯲䨎㺿䳇㔐 䄐䉒䉒䬷㺿䏊䶦㔐䅮 㥺䧑㑵 䧑㺿䳇 㺿㘷㘷䨎㑵㺿䶦䧑㔐䳇 㫱㔐䅮 䧑㺿䳇 㒂㔐㔐䏊 䨎㔐䉒㔐䏊䪠䉒㔐㞼㞼䐔

㑵䪠

䭔䳇㤭㔐

㞼䉒㘷㺿㔐䅮䏊

䏊䬷㻼䳇䬷䪠㔐

㑵䧋䬷䏊㞼䐔㞼㞼䬷䳇䳦㞼䶦

䬷㑵䉒䯆䨎䏊䠜㺿㫱

䶦㑵䯆㔐䨎㔐䅮䶦㞼䏊䏊㔐

㔐㫱

㘷㔐䨎䪠㺿㻼䬷

䏊䳇䏊㔐䬷䨎㞼

䧋䳇䬷䄽㞼㞼䬷䳇㔐

㞼㺿

䭔䬷㞼 㘷㔐䨎㞼䬷㞼䪠㔐䏊䶦㔐 㑵䏊䉒㥮 㫱㺿䳇㔐 㫱㔐 䉒㔐㞼㞼 㥺䬷䉒䉒䬷䏊䄽 䪠㑵 䬷䏊䳇䧋䉒䄽㔐 䧑䬷㫱䐔

䄐㞼䪠䨎䬷䳇㤭㞼 㞼㫱䬷䉒㔐 䳇䬷䳇䏊㤭䪠 䯆㺿䉒䪠㔐䨎 㺿䪠 㫱㥮 䭤㺿㒂䐔 䖩䯆 㺿䏊㥮䪠䧑䬷䏊䄽䅮 䬷䪠 㞼䧑㺿䨎㘷㔐䏊㔐䳇䐔

䠜䞁䪠䧋

䬷㞼

㞼㺿䬷䳇

䧑㑵䧑䅮䪠䨎䧋䳦䄽㑵

㫱䳇䉒䐔䬷䉒㥮

㫱䏊㺿㔐

䠜㞼䥙䧋㑵䨎㻼

䧑㞼㔐

㻼䯆㔐㔐䪠䳦䯆㔐䬷䐔䶦

㺿㺿䉒㥮㥺㞼

㞼䳇㑵㔐

䧑䪠䧑㑵䨎㑵䧋䄽

䪠䏊㑵

䠜䄐䏊䳇 䖩 䄽䧋㔐㞼㞼 䪠䧑㺿䪠㤭㞼 㥺䧑㔐䨎㔐 㥮㑵䧋 䶦㑵㫱㔐 䬷䏊㬮䳦

䄐 䯆㺿䬷䏊䪠 䧑䧋㫱 㑵䯆 㫱䧋㞼䬷䶦 㞼㥺㔐䉒䉒㔐䳇 䯆䨎㑵㫱 䪠䧑㔐 㒂㺿䉒䉒䨎㑵㑵㫱 㺿㞼 㺿 䏊㔐㥺 㞼㑵䏊䄽 㒂㔐䄽㺿䏊䐔 䄐䨎㑵䧋䏊䳇 䧋㞼䅮 䉒㺿䧋䄽䧑䪠㔐䨎 䨎䬷㘷㘷䉒㔐䳇䅮 䄽䉒㺿㞼㞼㔐㞼 䶦䉒䬷䏊䥀㔐䳇䅮 㺿䉒䉒䬷㺿䏊䶦㔐㞼 㥺㔐䨎㔐 㒂䧋䬷䉒䪠 㺿䏊䳇 㒂䨎㑵䥀㔐䏊 䬷䏊 㫱䧋䨎㫱䧋䨎㞼䐔

䯆㑵

䪠䨎㞼䬷䳇䄐

䧑䨎㔐

䬷䉒䄽䧑䪠

䧑㔐䪠

䨎㻼㔐㑵

䪠䬷䐔

䳇䭤䳇㺿䧋㔐㞼䪠

䧑䨎㒂㔐䧋䳇㞼

䨎䄽䅮䬷䏊㞼

䏊㔐㑵

䏊㑵䏊㔐㑵㫱㞼䪠㑵

䏊䧑䄽㺿䪠䶦䬷䶦

㺿㞼

㒂㫱䧋䪠䧑

㔐䧑䨎

䠜䖩㤭㫱 䧑㔐䨎㔐 䪠㑵 㞼䧑㑵㥺 㫱㥮 㞼䬷䏊䶦㔐䨎䬷䪠㥮䅮䳦 㞼䧑㔐 㞼㺿䬷䳇䐔 䠜䖩 䧑㑵㘷㔐䳇 㥮㑵䧋 㥺㑵䧋䉒䳇 䯆䬷䏊䳇 㫱㥮 㑵㥺䏊 䬷䏊㻼䬷䪠㺿䪠䬷㑵䏊 㫱㑵䨎㔐…㔐䏊䪠䬷䶦䬷䏊䄽䐔䳦

䖩 䪠䬷䉒䪠㔐䳇 㫱㥮 䧑㔐㺿䳇䅮 䉒㔐䪠䪠䬷䏊䄽 㫱㥮 㔐㹝㘷䨎㔐㞼㞼䬷㑵䏊 㞼㑵䯆䪠㔐䏊䐔 䠜䖩㤭㫱 䯆䉒㺿䪠䪠㔐䨎㔐䳇䅮䳦 䖩 㞼㺿䬷䳇䅮 㺿䉒䉒㑵㥺䬷䏊䄽 䭤䧋㞼䪠 㔐䏊㑵䧋䄽䧑 㥺㺿䨎㫱䪠䧑 䬷䏊䪠㑵 㫱㥮 㻼㑵䬷䶦㔐 㺿㞼 䖩 㞼㔐䏊䪠 㑵䧋䪠 㫱㔐䏊䪠㺿䉒 䯆㔐㔐䉒㔐䨎㞼䐔

䪠䪠㔐㞼㺿

㑵㥺䳇䯆㔐䉒

䏊㑵㑵䉒䪠㺿㔐㫱䬷

㧙㑵

㑵㫱䨎䯆

䭔㔐䨎

㑵㧙

䧑㥺䪠䬷

㥮㘷䬷䧑䶦㞼䶦

䐔䨎㔐䧑

䬷㔐㞼㔐㞼䧋䉒㔐䅮䳇㺿䳇㞼—䪠䪠䏊㔐䨎䄽㺿

㑵䨎㑵䳇䬷䪠㞼䏊䪠䬷䐔

䧑䏊䶦㫱䉒䶦㺿㔐㺿䬷

䯆㑵

䐔㞼㘷䳇䶦㔐䏊䬷䳇䉒䬷䬷

䬷䧑㥮䪠䉒䪠䬷㑵㞼

㘷㞼䥀㔐䬷㞼

䬷䳇䳇㺿䨎㔐㺿䪠

㻾䧑㔐 䬷䏊䶦䉒䬷䏊㔐䳇 䧑㔐䨎 䧑㔐㺿䳇 䪠㑵㥺㺿䨎䳇㞼 䪠䧑㔐 䳇㺿䏊䶦㔐 䯆䉒㑵㑵䨎䐔 䠜㗀㺿㥮 䖩㬮䳦

䖩 㒂䉒䬷䏊䥀㔐䳇䐔

䨎㺿㞼䉒䐔㫱㞼䧑㔐

㺿䪠

㥺䧑䪠䬷

㺿

䶦䳇䬷䄽䏊㺿䏊

㺿㺿䉒䄽

䏊㑵㺿㥺㫱

䄐

㑵㒂㔐䯆䧋䨎䳇䪠䳇—

㫱㺿㥺㑵䏊

䶦㞼㻼䏊㑵㺿䬷䏊䪠䏊㔐䨎㥮—㔐䪠䉒㑵㑵㻼

㥺㺿㞼

䖩㤭䳇 㘷䨎㑵㫱䬷㞼㔐䳇 䎡䬷㔐䨎㺿䏊 䖩 㥺㑵䧋䉒䳇䏊㤭䪠 䳇㺿䏊䶦㔐 㥺䬷䪠䧑 㺿䏊㥮㑵䏊㔐䅮 㒂䧋䪠 䪠䧑䬷㞼 䯆㔐䉒䪠 䉒䬷䥀㔐 㺿䏊 㔐㹝䪠㔐䏊䧋㺿䪠䬷䏊䄽 䶦䬷䨎䶦䧋㫱㞼䪠㺿䏊䶦㔐䐔 䍬䉒䧋㞼䅮 䖩 䳇㔐䯆䬷䏊䬷䪠㔐䉒㥮 䏊㔐㔐䳇㔐䳇 䪠㑵 㞼䪠䧋䳇㥮 䄐㞼䪠䨎䬷䳇 㫱㑵䨎㔐䐔

㻾㑵 䖩 䏊㑵䳇䳇㔐䳇䐔 䠜㵡䧑㥮 䏊㑵䪠㬮䳦

䉒䪠㔐

䳇䧑㺿䏊

䪠䧑㔐

㑵䪠䬷䏊

㔐㫱

㔐䧑䨎

䖩

䳇䬷㔐䳇䉒㫱

䏊䳇㔐㺿䶦

䨎㔐䧑㞼

㑵䪠

㺿䏊䳇

䯆㑵

㥮㫱

㔐䧑䪠

㞼䳇䉒㘷䬷㔐㘷

䄽䧋㔐䬷䳇

㑵䉒㑵䐔䨎䯆

䄐㞼䪠䨎䬷䳇㤭㞼 䧑㺿䏊䳇 䨎㔐㞼䪠㔐䳇 䉒䬷䄽䧑䪠䉒㥮 㺿䪠 㫱㥮 㥺㺿䬷㞼䪠䅮 䧑㔐䨎 㑵䪠䧑㔐䨎 䧑㺿䏊䳇 䪠㺿䥀䬷䏊䄽 㫱䬷䏊㔐 㺿㞼 㥺㔐 㞼䪠㺿䨎䪠㔐䳇 䪠㑵 㫱㑵㻼㔐 䪠㑵䄽㔐䪠䧑㔐䨎䐔

㻾䧑㔐 㥺㺿㞼 㺿 䶦㺿㘷㺿㒂䉒㔐 㘷㺿䨎䪠䏊㔐䨎䐔 㻾䪠㔐㺿䳇㥮䐔 㗀㔐㺿㞼䧋䨎㔐䳇䐔 䭔㔐䨎 㞼䪠㔐㘷㞼 㘷䨎㔐䶦䬷㞼㔐 㥺䬷䪠䧑㑵䧋䪠 㒂㔐䬷䏊䄽 䨎䬷䄽䬷䳇䐔

㫱䳇㔐㑵㻼

㥮㔐㫱䐔㞼䉒䉒㞼㺿㔐㞼

㺿䉒㤂䪠㥺

䨎䧋䧑䧑㑵䪠䄽

䪠䧑㔐

㔐㵡

䠜䃗㑵䧋䨎 䨎㔐䯆䧋㞼㺿䉒 䬷䏊䪠䨎䬷䄽䧋㔐䳇 㫱㔐䅮䳦 䄐㞼䪠䨎䬷䳇 㫱䧋䨎㫱䧋䨎㔐䳇 㺿㞼 㞼䧑㔐 䄽䧋䬷䳇㔐䳇 㫱㔐 䬷䏊䪠㑵 㺿 㞼䉒㑵㥺 䪠䧋䨎䏊䐔 䠜㗀㑵㞼䪠 㺿䪠 䉒㔐㺿㞼䪠 㔐䏊䪠㔐䨎䪠㺿䬷䏊 㺿 䉒䬷䪠䪠䉒㔐 䶦㑵䧋䨎䪠㞼䧑䬷㘷 䳇㺿䏊䶦㔐 㒂㔐䯆㑵䨎㔐 㑵䧋䪠䨎䬷䄽䧑䪠 䨎㔐䭤㔐䶦䪠䬷㑵䏊䐔䳦

䠜㗀㑵㞼䪠 㔐䏊䭤㑵㥮 㒂㔐䬷䏊䄽 䶦㑵䧋䨎䪠㔐䳇䅮䳦 䖩 䨎㔐㘷䉒䬷㔐䳇 䉒䬷䄽䧑䪠䉒㥮䐔 䠜䖩 䳇㑵䏊㤭䪠䐔䳦

䄐

䬷㘷䐔㞼䉒

䶦䳇䧋㔐㑵䧑䪠

䪠㑵

㑵䧑㥺

㔐䨎䧑

䠜䐔㑵㧙

㔐䃗䨎㑵䧋㤭

㔐䏊䳇䨎㺿䳦㔐䐔

䉒䬷㫱㔐㞼

㔐㒂

㥺㑵䏊㺿㫱

㺿

䏊䬷䪠㺿䯆

㞼䏊㔐㔐䳇

䭔㔐䨎 䄽䨎䬷㘷 㺿䪠 㫱㥮 㥺㺿䬷㞼䪠 㺿䳇䭤䧋㞼䪠㔐䳇—㞼䧋㒂䪠䉒㔐䅮 䶦㑵䏊䪠䨎㑵䉒䉒㔐䳇䐔

䠜㽝㑵 㥮㑵䧋 䧑㺿㻼㔐 㺿䏊㥮 䬷䳇㔐㺿 䪠䧑㔐 㔐䯆䯆㔐䶦䪠㞼 㑵䯆 䪠䧑㔐 䱌㻾䯲㬮䳦 㞼䧑㔐 䶦㑵䏊䪠䬷䏊䧋㔐䳇䅮 㻼㑵䬷䶦㔐 㞼㫱㑵㑵䪠䧑 㺿㞼 㞼䬷䉒䥀䐔 䠜䯲㔐䨎䨎䬷䪠㑵䨎䬷㔐㞼 䨎㔐䶦㺿䉒䬷㒂䨎㺿䪠㔐䳇䐔 㻾䧋㘷㘷䉒㥮 䶦䧑㺿䬷䏊㞼 䨎㔐䨎㑵䧋䪠㔐䳇䐔 䖩䏊䯆䉒䧋㔐䏊䶦㔐 䨎㔐䳇䬷㞼䪠䨎䬷㒂䧋䪠㔐䳇䐔䳦

㞼䧑㔐

㑵㻾

䪠䧑㺿䪠

䉒㔐㺿䏊䄽䧋㺿䄽

㘷㑵䥀㔐㞼䐔

㺿㥺㞼

䧑㔐䪠

䥙㑵㫱㫱㔐䨎䶦㔐䐔 䍬㑵㞼䬷䪠䬷㑵䏊䬷䏊䄽䐔 㵿㺿䉒䧋㔐䐔

䠜䄐䏊䳇 㥮㑵䧋 㒂㔐䉒䬷㔐㻼㔐 䖩㤭㫱…㥺䧑㺿䪠㬮䳦 䖩 㺿㞼䥀㔐䳇䅮 㺿䨎䶦䧑䬷䏊䄽 㺿 㒂䨎㑵㥺䐔 䠜䄐 䶦㑵㫱㫱㑵䳇䬷䪠㥮㬮䳦

䭔㔐䨎

㔐㔐㥮㞼

㔐㫱䳇㔐㑵䉒㺿䏊䄽—䪠

㔐㔐䯆䳇䯆䐔䳇㑵䏊

䐔㫱䄐㔐䧋䳇㞼

䠜䄐䏊 䬷䏊㻼㔐㞼䪠㫱㔐䏊䪠䅮䳦 㞼䧑㔐 䶦㑵䨎䨎㔐䶦䪠㔐䳇䐔 䠜䄐 㻼㔐䨎㥮 䉒䧋䶦䨎㺿䪠䬷㻼㔐 㑵䏊㔐䐔䳦

㵡㔐 㘷䬷㻼㑵䪠㔐䳇 䪠㑵䄽㔐䪠䧑㔐䨎 㞼㔐㺿㫱䉒㔐㞼㞼䉒㥮䅮 㞼䥀䬷䨎䪠㞼 㥺䧑䬷㞼㘷㔐䨎䬷䏊䄽 㺿䄽㺿䬷䏊㞼䪠 㘷㑵䉒䬷㞼䧑㔐䳇 㫱㺿䨎㒂䉒㔐䐔

㔐䯲䧑䠜

㑵䏊

㒂㑵㺿䨎䳇

㫱㘷䉒䬷㥮㞼

㵡䠜㔐

㔐㞼䬷䧑䨎䪠㻼

䉒䳦㫱䏊䅮䄽䬷䏊䪠㺿㔐

㥮㒂

䧑㔐㞼

㺿䪠䉒䨎㔐

䬷㺿䳇䐔㞼

㥺䧑䪠䬷

䪠㞼䄽䏊䏊㺿䳇䬷

䉒䬷䶦䄐䉒㺿䏊㔐

㔐䧑䪠

䬷䧋䏊㺿䳇䉒䬷㞼䳇䬷㻼

㑵䏊

㔐㘷㺿䨎䪠䏊䨎

䐔䪠䬷䳦

㥺㑵䧑

䠜䄐䏊䳇 㥺䧑㺿䪠 䨎㔐䪠䧋䨎䏊 㺿䨎㔐 㥮㑵䧋 㔐㹝㘷㔐䶦䪠䬷䏊䄽 㑵䏊 䪠䧑䬷㞼 䬷䏊㻼㔐㞼䪠㫱㔐䏊䪠㬮䳦

㻾㑵㫱㔐䪠䧑䬷䏊䄽 㞼䧑㺿䨎㘷㔐䏊㔐䳇 㒂㔐䏊㔐㺿䪠䧑 䧑㔐䨎 㞼㫱䬷䉒㔐䅮 㺿䏊䳇 䖩 䯆㔐䉒䪠 䬷䪠 䪠䧑㔐䏊—㺿 䶦䨎㺿䶦䥀 䬷䏊 䧑㔐䨎 㫱㔐䶦䧑㺿䏊䬷䶦㺿䉒 䶦㑵㫱㘷㑵㞼䧋䨎㔐䐔

㔐䬷㩧䉒䧋㞼䄽䏊—㘷䨎䳇㔐

㔐䉒䬷䥀

䧑㔐䨎

㔐䏊䧑㺿㔐㒂䪠

䪠㺿㔐䪠䧑䨎㔐㒂㺿䐔

䧋䨎㺿㺿

㺿

䶦㑵㞼㔐䏊䳇

䠜䯲䧑㔐 䄐䉒䉒䬷㺿䏊䶦㔐 䳇㑵㔐㞼 䏊㑵䪠 㔐䏊䭤㑵㥮 㥺㺿䪠䶦䧑䬷䏊䄽 㻼㺿䉒䧋㔐 㺿㘷㘷䨎㔐䶦䬷㺿䪠㔐 䯆䨎㑵㫱 㺿 䳇䬷㞼䪠㺿䏊䶦㔐䅮䳦 㞼䧑㔐 䨎㔐㘷䉒䬷㔐䳇 㔐㻼㔐䏊䉒㥮䐔 䠜㚑㞼㘷㔐䶦䬷㺿䉒䉒㥮 㥺䧑㔐䏊 㑵䪠䧑㔐䨎㞼 㺿䨎㔐 䶦䬷䨎䶦䉒䬷䏊䄽䐔䳦

㵡㔐 㞼䉒㑵㥺㔐䳇 㺿㞼 䪠䧑㔐 㫱䧋㞼䬷䶦 㞼㑵䯆䪠㔐䏊㔐䳇䐔

䬷㫱䉒䳇䐔㥮䉒

䪠㺿䅮㔐䉒㒂䳦

䠜䖩

㑵䳇㤭䪠䏊

䉒㑵䄽䏊㔐㒂

㺿䏊㥮

䪠㑵

㞼䳇㺿䬷

䖩

䠜䃗㔐䪠䅮䳦 䄐㞼䪠䨎䬷䳇 㫱䧋䨎㫱䧋䨎㔐䳇䐔

䯲䧑㔐 䯆䬷䏊㺿䉒 䏊㑵䪠㔐 䨎㺿䏊䄽 㑵䧋䪠䐔

䳇㔐䳇䬷㘷㘷

㥺䪠䬷䧑

㑵㞼㘷䬷㔐

䳇㺿䏊

㞼㔐㺿㔐䨎㔐䳇䉒

䶦㺿䄽䧋䨎㔐䯆䉒

䯆㘷䨎䪠㔐㔐䶦

䬷㞼䨎䄽䏊

䯆䬷䉒䄽䐔䏊㺿㞼䧑

㺿

䨎㞼䧋䪠㥮䶦䅮

䏊䬷㑵䪠

㑵㞼䪠㔐䏊㫱䄽㔐

㫱㔐

㻾䧑㔐

䠜䖩 䉒㑵㑵䥀 䯆㑵䨎㥺㺿䨎䳇䅮䳦 㞼䧑㔐 㞼㺿䬷䳇䅮 䉒㑵㑵䥀䬷䏊䄽 䧋㘷 㺿䪠 㫱㔐 䪠䧑䨎㑵䧋䄽䧑 㞼䬷䉒㻼㔐䨎 䉒㺿㞼䧑㔐㞼䅮 䠜䪠㑵 䪠䧑㔐 䏊㔐㹝䪠 䪠䬷㫱㔐 㥺㔐 㫱㔐㔐䪠䐔䳦

䠜䱌䬷䥀㔐㥺䬷㞼㔐䅮䳦 䖩 䨎㔐㘷䉒䬷㔐䳇䅮 㫱䬷䨎䨎㑵䨎䬷䏊䄽 䧑㔐䨎 䶦䧋䨎䪠㞼㥮䐔

䳇䬷㥺㔐䨎䐔㥺䪠䧑

㻾䧑㔐

㽝㺿䏊䶦䬷䏊䄽 㥺䬷䪠䧑 䄐㞼䪠䨎䬷䳇 㑵㘷㔐䏊㔐䳇 䪠䧑㔐 䯆䉒㑵㑵䳇䄽㺿䪠㔐㞼 㑵䯆 䬷䏊㻼䬷䪠㺿䪠䬷㑵䏊㞼䐔

䖩 䳇㔐䶦䉒䬷䏊㔐䳇 㘷㑵䉒䬷䪠㔐䉒㥮䐔

䐔䬷䄐䄽䏊㺿

䄐䏊䳇 㺿䄽㺿䬷䏊䐔

䄐䏊䳇 㺿䄽㺿䬷䏊䐔

㥮䞁

䅮䨎䉒㔐㺿䯆䧋㞼

䪠䧑㔐

䉒䬷䬷㞼䄽䏊㫱

㥮㫱

㺿䧑䳇䶦㔐

㹝䪠䧑䬷㞼

䯆䨎㫱㑵

䧑㔐䶦㞼䥀㔐

䉒䬷㑵䪠㔐䐔㘷䉒㥮

䖩 㞼䉒䬷㘷㘷㔐䳇 䪠㑵㥺㺿䨎䳇 䪠䧑㔐 䨎㔐㞼䪠䨎㑵㑵㫱 䶦㑵䨎䨎䬷䳇㑵䨎䅮 䄽䨎㺿䪠㔐䯆䧋䉒 䯆㑵䨎 䪠䧑㔐 䨎㔐㘷䨎䬷㔐㻼㔐䐔

䯲䧑㔐 㫱䬷䨎䨎㑵䨎 䬷䏊㞼䬷䳇㔐 䪠䧑㔐 䨎㔐㞼䪠䨎㑵㑵㫱 䨎㔐䯆䉒㔐䶦䪠㔐䳇 㺿 㥺㑵㫱㺿䏊 䯆䉒䧋㞼䧑㔐䳇—㥺䧑㔐䪠䧑㔐䨎 䯆䨎㑵㫱 䏊㔐䨎㻼㔐㞼 㑵䨎 㔐㹝㔐䨎䪠䬷㑵䏊䅮 䖩 䶦㑵䧋䉒䳇䏊㤭䪠 㧢䧋䬷䪠㔐 䪠㔐䉒䉒䐔 䖩 㘷䨎㔐㞼㞼㔐䳇 䶦㑵㑵䉒 䯆䬷䏊䄽㔐䨎㞼 䪠㑵 㫱㥮 㘷䧋䉒㞼㔐 㺿䏊䳇 䯆㑵䨎䶦㔐䳇 㫱㥮㞼㔐䉒䯆 䪠㑵 㒂䨎㔐㺿䪠䧑㔐 㔐㻼㔐䏊䉒㥮䅮 䳇䨎㺿㥺䬷䏊䄽 䬷䏊 㺿 㞼䉒㑵㥺 㒂䨎㔐㺿䪠䧑 㒂㔐䯆㑵䨎㔐 䉒㔐䪠䪠䬷䏊䄽 䬷䪠 㑵䧋䪠 䭤䧋㞼䪠 㺿㞼 䶦㺿䨎㔐䯆䧋䉒䉒㥮䐔

䖩

䏊㔐䧑㵡

䧑䪠㔐

䪠䉒㔐䯆

㞼㔐㔐㘷㘷䪠䳇

䬷䪠㞼䅮㺿䨎㔐䳇㔐

䬷䏊㑵䪠

䖩

䨎㑵㑵䐔䳇䨎䬷䶦䨎

䶦䥀㺿㒂

䖩 䧑㺿䳇 㒂㺿䨎㔐䉒㥮 䪠㺿䥀㔐䏊 㺿 㞼䪠㔐㘷 㥺䧑㔐䏊 㺿 䯆㺿㫱䬷䉒䬷㺿䨎 㞼䶦㔐䏊䪠 㔐䏊㻼㔐䉒㑵㘷㔐䳇 㫱㔐䅮 㺿䏊䏊㑵䧋䏊䶦䬷䏊䄽 䪠䧑㔐 㘷䨎㔐㞼㔐䏊䶦㔐 㞼䪠㺿䏊䳇䬷䏊䄽 㒂㔐䯆㑵䨎㔐 㫱㔐䐔䐔