Read Novel Full Chapter 373 SOMETHING NEW
Chapter 373: Chapter 373 SOMETHING NEW
SERAPHINA’S POV
Under the moon.
I didn’t know why that was what I wanted—only that nothing else would do.
For a second, neither of us moved.
The air between us was charged—thick with heat and tension. The moonlight streaming across the floor seemed almost brighter now.
Then Kieran moved. He carried me with a possessive certainty that stole the breath from my lungs, his hands firm and unyielding against my skin.
My legs tightened around his waist, locking him closer. His grip tightened in response, fingers digging into my hips as he strode out of the bathroom without breaking eye contact.
The bedroom opened around us in shadow and silver.
Moonlight flooded the floor in a wide spill near the windows, bright enough to paint his shoulders in pale light and carve sharp lines down his chest.
He lowered me slowly into the heart of that silver glow. My back met the soft rug near the window, the cool fibers a stark contrast to the heat building between us.
The city lights flickered beyond the glass, distant and irrelevant. Here, under the moon’s unfiltered gaze, everything felt stripped down to its most primal truth.
It was almost ceremonial.
Like we were being blessed.
Kieran hovered over me, his body a solid wall of heat and power, one hand braced beside my head, the other sliding along my thigh as he settled between them.
For a second, we just looked at each other.
His thumb traced slowly along my lower lip, eyes dark and searching. “You’re certain?” he asked, voice low and strained.
“Shut up and kiss me.” I reached up and pulled him down by the back of his neck.
My mouth found his first, and I kissed him like I meant to consume him.
My hands moved over him without hesitation, sliding over hard muscle, gripping, dragging him closer.
The hard length of him strained visibly beneath the pajama bottoms, the outline unmistakable as it settled against my bare, slick entrance.
My hips lifted instinctively, and even through the fabric, I felt him—hot, rigid, heavy. The friction of cotton against my wetness sent a pulse straight through my core and dragged a broken gasp from my throat.
The damp heat between my thighs soaked into the thin material almost immediately, making it cling to him, outlining him even more clearly as he pressed forward.
The blunt head of his cock nudged against me through the barrier, as he rocked his hips, sliding against my soaked folds in a slow drag that made my stomach tighten.
My back arched off the floor, and a loud moan tore out of me.
“Fuck, Sera,” he groaned, a hand slipping between us.
The knowledge that he could feel exactly how ready I was for him only made the heat burn hotter.
His mouth moved from mine—down my jaw, along my throat.
He bit lightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to pull another moan from the back of my throat.
His other hand slid down my side, fingers strong and possessive as they mapped my body.
When his palm cupped my breast, thumb brushing slow and deliberate over the sensitive peaks of my nipples, my back arched again.
“Kieran,” I whimpered, the heat of desire tightening and sharpening into something almost unbearable.
His head lifted at the sound of his name.
That look in his eyes—
Dark. Possessive. Unraveling.
Before he could speak, I slid my hand down between us.
My fingers found the waistband of his pajama bottoms and slipped beneath it without hesitation.
The heat of him met my palm instantly—thick, hard, and throbbing as I wrapped my fingers around him, unable to circle his girth fully.
His breath left him in a rough exhale.
My grip tightened, stroking once, slow and teasing. He was hot—almost burning—and practically pulsing in my hand.
“Kieran,” I whispered, watching the way his jaw clenched when I stroked my thumb across the leaking head, and his hip jerked.
The possessive hunger in his gaze deepened.
Along with the unmistakable realization that I was no longer just being taken—
I was taking.
“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured.
“I love fire,” I whispered back.
He kissed me again, harder. His tongue demanded entry, and I gave it, meeting him with equal fervor. My nails dragged down his back, and I felt the muscles there flex beneath my touch.
My grip tightened around him, and I felt the way his body reacted—his breath roughening, his hips pressing harder into my hand.
Okay, enough teasing.
I released him and pushed the waistband down.
The cotton dragged over his hips, freeing him inch by inch until his cock sprang fully into my palm. The sight of him, thick and flushed in the moonlight, sent a rush of fresh moisture between my legs.
I stroked him once, revelling in the weight and pulse of him in my hand. Then I shifted my hips upward, guiding him toward where I needed him most.
The head of his cock brushed against my slick entrance.
Even that slight contact made my breath catch.
He exhaled sharply as he felt how wet I was, the heat of me coating him instantly. I dragged him through my folds once, slow and intentional, letting him feel exactly how ready I was.
Without warning, he thrust forward.
I gasped at the suddenness and fullness of him.
My fingers tightened around his shoulders, nail biting into his skin as he continued, inch by inch, stretching and stretching.
I let out a moan, drowned out by his groan as he buried himself to the hilt, neither of us quite breathing.
For a suspended second, we didn’t move.
We just felt it.
The perfect way we fit.
The way the moonlight washed over us, silver and sacred, illuminating the place where we were joined.
His forehead dropped to mine, breath ragged.
“Kieran,” I whispered.
He answered with a pained groan.
I smiled, rolling my hips against him. “You can move. I promise I won’t break.”
Slowly, his hips moved as he bottomed out—and then thrust back in.
My head fell back, a loud moan tearing out of me as he began to move.
His pace wasn’t gentle.
Each thrust drove into me with barely-leashed force.
My body answered without hesitation, hips lifting to meet him.
The moonlight spilled across his back, silver outlining the flex of muscle as he moved. I could see every shift in him. Feel every pulse.
He gripped my wrists suddenly, pinning them above my head into the rug.
The position made me gasp, exposed beneath him, entirely open to his gaze.
His eyes dragged over me—over my breasts, rising and falling with each breath, to the place where we were joined.
Something dark and satisfied flashed in his expression as he watched the way my body took him without resistance.
“You feel that?” he asked, voice rough.
“Yes,” I breathed.
I felt everything.
The push and pull.
The heat building low in my stomach.
The way the bond—though severed, though unmarked—seemed to hum faintly between us.
With every thrust, with every breath shared beneath the moon, something wound tighter between us.
He released one of my wrists and slid his hand down my body until he found the place where we were joined.
His thumb pressed against my swollen clit, and the added pressure sent a jolt through me so sharp my vision blurred.
The rhythm broke.
Then accelerated.
Harder.
Faster.
Erotic, lewd sounds filled the air—his groans, my moans, the raw, wet sound of skin slapping skin.
It wasn’t polished, sweet lovemaking.
It was primal. Animal.
And yet—under the steady wash of moonlight pouring over us—it felt almost sacred.
My pleasure built quickly under the intensity. There was no teasing, no slow unraveling. It was a sharp climb, and I knew it was going to be a steep drop.
“Kieran—” I gasped again, my voice breaking.
His mouth found mine, swallowing the sound as he thrust deeper, harder, driving me toward the edge.
My back arched sharply, heels digging into the rug as the pressure coiled tighter—
Then snapped.
The release tore through me in a wave so powerful I cried out against his mouth. My body clenched around him, trembling, pulling him deeper.
He followed seconds later.
His movements lost rhythm, becoming rougher, more desperate. His forehead dropped to mine as he buried himself fully, a guttural sound escaping him as he finished with a final thrust.
For a long moment, neither of us moved.
We stayed like that—joined, breathless, hearts pounding wildly.
The moonlight seemed softer now.
His grip loosened, hands sliding from my wrists to my waist, holding me close instead of pinning me down.
The moonlight touched my skin, cool now against the fading heat. I traced my fingers over his shoulder, over the place where my teeth would one day mark him.
‘You feel that?’ Alina whispered, soft and sated.
‘Yes,’ I answered.
I could feel it: the bond.
But it didn’t feel like the old tether.
Not restored.
Not sealed with a mark.
But deeper.
As though the moon had woven something new between us.
盧
老
䱧䲛㽖䱧㔆䠏㰲㲢㲢䝏㙾
擄
㙾㗶㣌
盧蘆擄㗇䂮䃌㶥㪾㶥䡷爐爐 䂦䃌䃌㪾㛕㑚䈔 䑋䂮䟰䱨㫉䌕㬤
爐爐䝏 䑋䎥䃌䟰䂦㸹㑚䈔 䟰䃌䂮䁞 䑋㫉㑚㑚䛘 䑋㫉䂮䏱㫉䌕䙀 䏱䃌䂦䛘䛘㑚䈔 㪾㶥 䏱䂦䃌䁞䱨䳊 䂦㶥䈔 䱨䳊㑚 㫉㪾㶥䡷㑚䃌㪾㶥䡷 䳊䂦䔈㑚 䂮䟰 䂦 㶥㪾䡷䳊䱨 䱨䳊䂦䱨 䑋䱨㪾㫉㫉 䟰㑚㫉䱨 䳊䂦㫉䟰 㫉㪾㬯㑚 䂦 䈔䃌㑚䂦䁞㬤
㪾䙀䱨㫉䑋㫉
㑚䂦䌕䱨䈔䑋
䃌㰛㑚㶥䂦㪾㬤
䳊䱨㑚
䂦
䌕㑚㪾㫉㶥䎥㭐䎥
䃌㫉䟰䂦䂦㪾䁞㪾
㶥䎥䃌䈔䎥㪾䡷䑋䃌䂮㶥
䱨䁞䂮㑚㶥䙀䁞
䟰䡷䃌䈔䱨㪾㪾㶥
䳊䱨㑚
㶥㑚䙀䑋㑚䃌䛘䱨
䟰䂮
㑚䁞䌕䃌䂮䁞
䱨䳊㑚
䌕㫉䂦
䝏
䂮䟰
䌕㫉㶥䂮
䂦㶥䈔
䂦㑚䱨䳊
䈔㑚㸹䂦䃌
䂮㺈䃌
㸹㶥䱨㑚䑋
㶥㑚㑚䏱䟖䱨㑚
䈔䂦㶥
㑚䁞
䂦㶥䈔
䃌䂦㑚䂦䏱
䁞䂮䱨䑋㑚㪾䳊㶥䡷
㸠䳊㑚㶥 䳊㪾䑋 㫉㪾䛘䑋 䟖䃌䎥䑋䳊㑚䈔 䁞䌕 㶥㑚㸹㬯㬤
㲢 㭐䎥㪾㑚䱨 䟖䃌㑚䂦䱨䳊 㫉㑚䟰䱨 䁞㑚 䂦䑋 䂦䏱䂦䃌㑚㶥㑚䑋䑋 䑋䳊䂦䃌䛘㑚㶥㑚䈔 䂦㶥䈔 䂦 㤌䂮㫉䱨 䂮䟰 䂦㶥䱨㪾㸹㪾䛘䂦䱨㪾䂮㶥 䱨㪾㶥䡷㫉㑚䈔 䱨䳊䃌䂮䎥䡷䳊 䁞䌕 㸹䳊㑚䑋䱨㬤
㛕㸹䎥㑚䃌
㑚㶥䑋䱨㑚㛕䑋㪾㪾
㶥䙀䃌㪾䃌㑚䎥䳊䎥䈔
䑋䂮䁞䂮䑋㑚䡷䛘䟖䎥
㶥䑋㪾㬯㬤
䟰䂮
㑚㸠䳊
㑚䱨䃌㑚䃌㛕㬤㶥㑚
㸹䃌䂮䂦䑋䑋
䂮㫉䂦㶥䡷
㫉䏱㫉䂮䑋䌕
䑋䂦䱨㫉䂮䁞
䑋㪾䲛
䁞㑚䂮䈔㛕
㑚䟖㶥䳊䱨㑚䂦
䌕䁞
㑚䳊䱨
䑋䱨䃌㪾㑚䃌䈔
䌕䁞
䑋䳊㪾
䁞䱨䳊䂮䎥
䂦䟖䃌㑚䳊䱨
䙀㑚䂦䃌
䁞䱨䏱䂦䳊䃌
㼒㰛㪾㑚䃌䂦㶥…䂚 䝏 䁞䎥䃌䁞䎥䃌㑚䈔 䑋㫉㑚㑚䛘㪾㫉䌕㬤
䲛㑚 䂦㶥䑋䏱㑚䃌㑚䈔 䏱㪾䱨䳊 䂦㶥䂮䱨䳊㑚䃌 㬯㪾䑋䑋㬤
䂮㫉䏱䌕㫉䑋
䱨䑋㪾䃌㑚䡷㶥
䳊㪾䑋
㗶㶥䌕㫉
䝏
䙀䟖䑋䱨䃌㑚䂦
㶥㑚䳊䱨
䁞䎥䱨䳊䟖
䂦㶥䈔䳊
㶥䂮
䌕䁞
䈔䈔㪾
䛘䂦䁞㫉
䱨䳊㑚
䱨䃌㑚䂦㸹䈔
䳊㪾䑋
䑋㪾䳊
䑋䂦
䂦㑚䔈㪾䃌㫉㑚
㑚䂦䁞䈔
䳊䱨䱨䂦
䏱䂦䃌䁞
䑋䂦䏱
㫉㛕㪾䂦㑚
㫉䂦䔈䌕
䁞䌕
䂮㛕䃌㑚
㑚䟖㑚䂦㶥䱨䳊
䂮䌕䟖䈔
䈔㶥䂦
䛘㪾䂮㛕䑋䑋㑚㑚䑋䑋
䁞䌕
䃌䑋㪾㸹㫉㑚㸹
㬯䂦䱨䑋㑚㶥䟖㫉㬤
㪾㫉㑚䑋㶥䛘䛘
㑚䁞㸹䂮
䲛㪾䑋 䂮䱨䳊㑚䃌 䳊䂦㶥䈔…
㗇䌕 㑚䌕㑚䑋 䟰㫉㑚䏱 䂮䛘㑚㶥 䑋㫉㪾䡷䳊䱨㫉䌕 䂦䑋 䑋㑚㶥䑋䂦䱨㪾䂮㶥 䑋䳊䂦䃌䛘㑚㶥㑚䈔㬤
䳊䳊㪾䡷䱨
㪾䑋䲛
㑚䂦䌕㫉䟖䃌
㑚䟖䳊㑚㶥䱨䂦
䌕䁞
䂮䟰
䂮䂮㫉㑚䈔䛘
䑋䱨䑋㑚㑚䳊䙀
䃌㑚㑚䳊䏱
䁞䌕
㶥䂮㫉䡷䂦
㶥䑋䡷㪾䟰㑚䃌
㶥䌕䱨㑚㫉䂦䡷䑋㪾
䌕䂮䟖䈔㬤
䳊䟖䡷㶥㪾䃌䎥䑋
䳊䱨㑚
䳊㑚䱨䂦
㤌䑋䱨䎥
㶥㪾
䂮㫉䏱
㫉䈔䑋㪾
㑚䱨䳊
㪾䑋䈔㶥㪾㑚
㲢 䑋䳊㪾㛕㑚䃌 䃌䂦㶥 䱨䳊䃌䂮䎥䡷䳊 䁞㑚㬤
㼒㰛㪾㑚䃌䂦㶥䙀䂚 䝏 䏱䳊㪾䑋䛘㑚䃌㑚䈔 䂦䡷䂦㪾㶥䙀 䱨䳊䂮䎥䡷䳊 䱨䳊㑚 䛘䃌䂮䱨㑚䑋䱨 䳊㑚㫉䈔 㛕㑚䃌䌕 㫉㪾䱨䱨㫉㑚 䟰䂮䃌㸹㑚㬤
䱨㪾䂦䑋㶥䂦䡷
䑋㬯㶥㬤㪾
䟖䈔㛕㪾䂦㑚䱨䃌
䎥㸹㬯㸹䳊㑚㫉
䲛㪾䑋
䁞䌕
㼒䥰䂮䂮䈔 䁞䂮䃌㶥㪾㶥䡷䙀 䟖㑚䂦䎥䱨㪾䟰䎥㫉㬤䂚
䝏 䑋䳊㪾䟰䱨㑚䈔 䑋㫉㪾䡷䳊䱨㫉䌕 䂮㶥䱨䂮 䁞䌕 䟖䂦㸹㬯 䂦㶥䈔 䟖㫉㪾㶥㬯㑚䈔 䎥䛘 䂦䱨 䱨䳊㑚 㸹㑚㪾㫉㪾㶥䡷 䂦䑋 䱨䳊㑚 㫉䂦䑋䱨 䃌㑚䁞㶥䂦㶥䱨䑋 䂮䟰 䑋㫉㑚㑚䛘 䟰䂦䈔㑚䈔㬤
䃌䟰㑚㸹㪾㑚
䂮䟰
䂮䳊䎥䑋䃌
䂦䳊䈔
䑋㶥㪾䂦䱨䃌䎥㸹
䏱㑚
䳊䱨㑚
䱨䈔㶥䂦㪾䛘㑚
㫉䂦㑚㫉䟰㶥
㑚䑋䂦䛘㑚㫉
㑚䈔䎥䃌㶥
䳊㑚䱨
㫉䳊䱨㪾䡷
䳊㸠㑚
䑋㛕㪾㫉㑚䃌
㶥㪾
㑚䱨䑋䂮䃌䟰
㶥䱨䂦䳊
㫉䛘㑚䂦
䂮䳊㶥䡷㫉䁞㪾䂮䱨
䳊㑚䱨
䈔䂮䙀䡷㫉
䱨䡷䂮䎥䃌䳊䳊
㫉㪾㑚䟰㶥䃌䡷䱨㪾
䃌䂮䂮䁞
㪾䂮㶥䃌䂦䌕䁞㑚䡷䃌䩧㶥㫉
䱨㑚䳊
㫉䃌䂦㑚㪾䃌㬤㑚
㲢㶥䈔 䱨䳊㑚㶥 䁞㑚䁞䂮䃌䌕 䑋䱨䃌䎥㸹㬯㬤
㗇䂮䂮㶥㫉㪾䡷䳊䱨㬤
㑚䳊㸠
䎥䃌㬤䡷
㸠䳊㑚 䏱䂦䌕 䝏 䳊䂦䈔 䛘䎥㫉㫉㑚䈔 䳊㪾䁞 䈔䂮䏱㶥 䱨䂮 䁞㑚 䏱㪾䱨䳊䂮䎥䱨 䳊㑚䑋㪾䱨䂦䱨㪾䂮㶥㬤
㟧䝏 㫉䂮㛕㑚 䟰㪾䃌㑚㬤䠏
䱨䂮
䟰㑚䂦㸹㬤
䌕䁞
䃌䳊䈔䎥㑚䑋
㑚䱨䂦䲛
㗶䳊 䡷䂮䈔䑋㬤
䝏 䟖䎥䃌㪾㑚䈔 䁞䌕 䟰䂦㸹㑚 㪾㶥 䱨䳊㑚 䛘㪾㫉㫉䂮䏱㬤
㑚㶥䃌㪾䑋䠏㰛䂦
㶥䱨䂮䠏㼒㡸
䂚䌕䳊㬤䑋
䂦
䠏䌕䂮䃌㑚䎥
䑋㶥㬯㬤㪾
䁞㑚
㫉㶥䈔䑋䈔䎥䌕㑚
䑋䏱䂦
㪾㫉㑚㬯
㸹䎥㫉㸹㑚䳊㬯
㶥䂮
䌕䁞
㫉䂮䏱
䱨㑚㫉㫉
䑋䃌䑋䂦㸹㑚
䝏 䡷䃌䂮䂦㶥㑚䈔 䑋䂮䟰䱨㫉䌕㬤 㼒䝏 䈔䂮㶥䠏䱨 㬯㶥䂮䏱 䏱䳊䂦䱨 䌕䂮䎥䠏䃌㑚 䱨䂦㫉㬯㪾㶥䡷 䂦䟖䂮䎥䱨㬤䂚
䲛㪾䑋 䳊䂦㶥䈔 䱨㪾䡷䳊䱨㑚㶥㑚䈔 䑋㫉㪾䡷䳊䱨㫉䌕 䂮㛕㑚䃌 䁞䌕 䟖䃌㑚䂦䑋䱨㬤
㗶䙀㼒䳊
䂮㫉䂦䟖㫉䱨㑚䌕䎥䑋
㬤䈔䂚䂮
䂮䌕䎥
䝏 䛘㑚㑚㬯㑚䈔 䂦䱨 䳊㪾䁞 䱨䳊䃌䂮䎥䡷䳊 䱨䳊㑚 㸹䎥䃌䱨䂦㪾㶥 䂮䟰 䁞䌕 䳊䂦㪾䃌㬤 䲛㪾䑋 㑚䌕㑚䑋 䡷㫉㑚䂦䁞㑚䈔 䏱㪾䱨䳊 䎥㶥䁞㪾䑋䱨䂦㬯䂦䟖㫉㑚 䑋䂦䱨㪾䑋䟰䂦㸹䱨㪾䂮㶥 䂦䑋 䳊㑚 㫉䂮䂮㬯㑚䈔 䈔䂮䏱㶥 䂦䱨 䁞㑚䙀 䛘䃌䂮䛘䛘㑚䈔 㸹䂦䑋䎥䂦㫉㫉䌕 䂮㶥 䂮㶥㑚 㑚㫉䟖䂮䏱㬤
㼒䭻䳊䌕 䂦䃌㑚 䌕䂮䎥 䂦㸹䱨㪾㶥䡷 㫉㪾㬯㑚 㫉䂦䑋䱨 㶥㪾䡷䳊䱨 䏱䂦䑋 䂮䎥䃌 䟰㪾䃌䑋䱨 䱨㪾䁞㑚㖶䂚
䡷䳊㶥㪾䱨
䝏
䟖㑚䈔
䂦㑚䳊㛕
䭻㑚
䟖㑚㬤㑚䂮䟰䃌
㬤䡷䈔䡷䎥䳊㑚䑋䃌
㪾䱨䙀䁞㑚
䝏
䱨㪾䡷䁞䳊
䏱㶥㑚㬯䂮
䑋䏱䂦
䂦䑋䱨䙈”
䱨䑋䙈䂦
䂮㶥䱨
䃌䎥䂮
䂦䳊㑚㛕㶥䠏䱨
䌕”䂮㬤䎥
䑋䱨䳊㪾
䱨䂮䎥
㑚㶥䟖㑚
䁞㶥䂮㶥䃌㪾䡷
䟖㑚䟰䃌㑚䂮
䟰㪾䑋䱨䃌㬤
䟰䂮
䂮㑚䃌䱨䡷䱨㑚䳊
䙍䎥䱨
䑋㪾㬤
䎥䛘
䲛㪾䑋 㑚䒽䛘䃌㑚䑋䑋㪾䂮㶥 䑋䂮䟰䱨㑚㶥㑚䈔䙀 䂦㶥䈔 䳊㑚 䈔㪾䛘䛘㑚䈔 䳊㪾䑋 䳊㑚䂦䈔䙀 䛘䃌㑚䑋䑋㪾㶥䡷 䂦 䑋㫉䂮䏱 㬯㪾䑋䑋 䱨䂮 䱨䳊㑚 䳊䂮㫉㫉䂮䏱 䂮䟰 䁞䌕 䱨䳊䃌䂮䂦䱨㬤
㼒㸠䳊䂦䱨䠏䑋 䁞䌕 䟰䂦䎥㫉䱨䙀䂚 䳊㑚 䁞䎥䁞䟖㫉㑚䈔 䂦䡷䂦㪾㶥䑋䱨 䁞䌕 䑋㬯㪾㶥㬤 㼒䝏䠏䁞 䑋䂮䃌䃌䌕㬤䂚
䃌㑚䟖䂚䁞䃌㑚䁞㑚㖶
䱨䳊㑚
䝏
䂦䱨䛘䑋䙀
㬤䳊㑚䂦䈔
䁞䌕
䃌䌕䑋䂮䃌
䂮䂦䟖䱨䎥
䭻㼒䠏䃌㑚㑚
㑚䂮㶥䈔
䂮䳊㬯䑋䂮
㪾㑚䡷㶥㑚䟰㫉
䲛㑚 㶥䂮䈔䈔㑚䈔䙀 䛘䃌㑚䑋䑋㪾㶥䡷 䂦㶥䂮䱨䳊㑚䃌 㬯㪾䑋䑋 䱨䂮 䁞䌕 䑋㬯㪾㶥㬤 㼒䝏㶥 䂮䱨䳊㑚䃌 㶥㑚䏱䑋䂚—䝏 䟰㑚㫉䱨 䳊㪾䑋 䑋䁞㪾㫉㑚 䏱㪾䈔㑚㶥 䂦䡷䂦㪾㶥䑋䱨 䁞䌕 䑋㬯㪾㶥—㼒䌕䂮䎥 䏱㑚䃌㑚 㛕㑚䃌䌕 䟖䂮㫉䈔 㫉䂦䑋䱨 㶥㪾䡷䳊䱨䙀 䱧㑚䃌䂦䛘䳊㪾㶥䂦㬤䂚
㸠䳊㑚 䳊㑚䂦䱨 㪾㶥 䁞䌕 㸹䳊㑚㑚㬯䑋 㪾㶥䱨㑚㶥䑋㪾䟰㪾㑚䈔㬤
㫉㑚䟰䎥㶥㶥㑚㸹䂚䙀㪾
䱨䈔䁞䃌㑚㑚䱨䎥
䏱䂦䑋
㼒䝏
㫉㬤㬯䂦㑚䌕䏱
䎥䂦㶥䃌㫉
䎥䑋䂦㶥䎥㫉䎥
䎥㑚㶥䈔䃌
䲛㪾䑋 䡷䃌㪾㶥 䏱㪾䈔㑚㶥㑚䈔㬤 㼒䝏䑋 䱨䳊䂦䱨 䏱䳊䂦䱨 䏱㑚䠏䃌㑚 㸹䂦㫉㫉㪾㶥䡷 㪾䱨㖶䂚
䲛㪾䑋 䟰㪾㶥䡷㑚䃌䑋 䱨䃌䂦㸹㑚䈔 䱨㑚䂦䑋㪾㶥䡷㫉䌕 䂦㫉䂮㶥䡷 䁞䌕 䑋㪾䈔㑚 䂦䑋 䳊㑚 䑋䛘䂮㬯㑚䙀 䑋㑚㶥䈔㪾㶥䡷 䂦㶥䂮䱨䳊㑚䃌 䃌㪾䛘䛘㫉㑚 䂮䟰 䏱䂦䃌䁞䱨䳊 䱨䳊䃌䂮䎥䡷䳊 䁞㑚㬤
㲙㼒䎥䂮
䂮㶥䂚䁞㬤䂮
䝏
䂮䎥䌕
㑚䈔䎥㶥䃌
㑚㶥䈔䁞䈔䈔㑚䂦
䱨㑚䳊
㬯䂦䱨㑚
㗇䌕 䟖㫉䎥䑋䳊 䈔㑚㑚䛘㑚㶥㑚䈔㬤
㼒䝏 䁞㑚䃌㑚㫉䌕 䑋䎥䡷䡷㑚䑋䱨㑚䈔—䂚
䂮䂚䈔㬤㑚䃌㑚䃌䈔
䎥㼒䂮㲙
䲛㪾䑋 䁞䂮䎥䱨䳊 䟖䃌䎥䑋䳊㑚䈔 䱨䳊㑚 䑋㑚㶥䑋㪾䱨㪾㛕㑚 䑋䛘䂮䱨 䟖㑚㶥㑚䂦䱨䳊 䁞䌕 㤌䂦䏱 䂦䡷䂦㪾㶥䙀 䂦㶥䈔 䁞䌕 䟖䃌㑚䂦䱨䳊 㸹䂦䎥䡷䳊䱨㬤
㼒䝏 㫉䂮㛕㑚 㪾䱨 䏱䳊㑚㶥 䌕䂮䎥 䡷㑚䱨 䑋䂮 㸹䂮䁞䁞䂦㶥䈔㪾㶥䡷㬤䂚
䝏
䑋䳊䂮㑚䈔㛕
㑚䱨䳊
㪾㫉㫉䱨䳊䡷䌕
䂦䱨
㑚䎥䱨䑋㑚䃌䡷
䑋㪾䳊
䱨䳊䳊䡷䂮䎥
䑋䃌䎥䈔㑚䳊䂮㫉䙀
㬯䂦㫉㑚㸹䈔
㶥䂮䱨㬤㪾䂮㪾㸹㶥㸹㛕
㼒㲙䂮䎥䠏䃌㑚 㑚㶥㤌䂮䌕㪾㶥䡷 䱨䳊㪾䑋 䟰䂦䃌 䱨䂮䂮 䁞䎥㸹䳊㬤䂚
㼒㗶䟰 㸹䂮䎥䃌䑋㑚 䝏 䂦䁞㬤䂚 䲛㪾䑋 䱨䂮㶥㑚 㸹䂦䃌䃌㪾㑚䈔 䔈㑚䃌䂮 䑋䳊䂦䁞㑚㬤 “䝏 䑋䛘㑚㶥䱨 䱨㑚㶥 䌕㑚䂦䃌䑋 㶥䂮䱨 䂦䛘䛘䃌㑚㸹㪾䂦䱨㪾㶥䡷 䏱䳊䂦䱨 䝏 䳊䂦䈔䙀 䱧㑚䃌䂦㬤 㔆䂮䏱䙀 䝏 㪾㶥䱨㑚㶥䈔 䱨䂮 㑚㶥㤌䂮䌕 䱨䳊㑚 䁞㑚䁞䂮䃌䌕 䂮䟰 㫉䂦䑋䱨 㶥㪾䡷䳊䱨 䱨䳊䂮䃌䂮䎥䡷䳊㫉䌕—䂦㶥䈔 㑚㛕㑚䃌䌕 䁞㑚䁞䂮䃌䌕 䱨䂮 㸹䂮䁞㑚㬤”
䳊䱨㑚
䂮䟰
䳊䎥䡷䳊䂮䱨
㶥䂦㶥䂮䌕䙀㑚䈔
㫉䂦䱨䃌䡷䳊䎥㑚
㬤䂮㑚㪾㛕㸹
䂦䱨
䑋䂮䎥㶥䈔
䱨䂮
䈔䱨䡷䡷㑚䎥
䑋䡷㑚䈔㑚
䎥䳊㑚䟰䈔䟰䙀
䌕㪾㶥䡷䃌䱨
䌕䁞
㼒㲙䂮䎥䠏䃌㑚 㪾㶥䑋䎥䟰䟰㑚䃌䂦䟖㫉㑚㬤䂚
㼒㗇䁞㬤䂚
䱨䎥㑚㭐㪾
䃌㪾䟰㶥䡷䑋㑚
㪾䳊䡷㑚䳊䃌
䑋㬯㫉䟖㶥䂦㑚䱨
㶥䳊䱨䟖䂦㑚㑚
䳊㸹㑚䱨㬤䑋
䂦㪾䳊㫉㶥㑚
䑋䛘㪾㫉䛘䈔㑚
䂦
䲛㪾䑋
䟰䃌䂮䁞
䱨䳊㑚
㶥䂦㪾䡷䂦䙀
䌕䁞
䡷䃌䏱㪾㶥䂦䈔
㼒㲢㶥䈔 䌕䂮䎥䙀” 䳊㑚 䁞䎥䃌䁞䎥䃌㑚䈔 㶥㑚䂦䃌 䁞䌕 㑚䂦䃌䙀 “䂦䃌㑚 䁞䂦䡷㶥㪾䟰㪾㸹㑚㶥䱨㬤䂚
㸠䳊㑚 䱨㑚䂦䑋㪾㶥䡷 㪾㶥 䳊㪾䑋 㑚䒽䛘䃌㑚䑋䑋㪾䂮㶥 䑋䂮䟰䱨㑚㶥㑚䈔 㤌䎥䑋䱨 䑋㫉㪾䡷䳊䱨㫉䌕㬤
䳊䑋䏱㪾
䂦䑋㪾䈔
㼒䝏
䝏㼒
㑚䂦㶥䁞
䱨㪾䌕㑚㭐䎥㫉㬤
䳊㑚
䈔䳊䂦㶥㑚䛘䛘㑚
䱨䳊㑚
㪾䙀䱨䂚
䡷䂚㶥㪾䱨㬤䳊
㶥㪾䎥䈔㪾㫉䟖䡷
䏱䳊䱨䂦
䏱㑚㬯㶥
㶥㑚㪾㑚䃌䱨
䱨㫉䂦䑋
䳊㑚㑚䃌
䝏 䡷䂦䑋䛘㑚䈔㬤 㼒㰛㪾㑚䃌䂦㶥㐑䂚
䲛㪾䑋 䡷䃌㪾㶥 䃌㑚䱨䎥䃌㶥㑚䈔 㪾㶥䑋䱨䂦㶥䱨㫉䌕㬤 㼒䝏 䈔䂮㬤䂚
䌕㗇
䌕㫉䡷㫉䳊㪾䱨
䳊㪾䑋
㫉㛕䑋㪾㑚
䂦㶥䈔䳊
㪾㶥
䡷䂦䂦䱨㪾㶥䑋
䃌㼒㗶䎥
䑋䳊䱨㪾
䳊㬤䑋䱨㸹㑚
䂚㫉䟖㶥䈔㪾䡷䎥㬤㪾
䑋䂮㶥
䑋䂦㸹㬯䁞䈔㑚
㰛㪾㑚䃌䂦㶥 㫉䂮䂮㬯㑚䈔 㑚㶥䱨㪾䃌㑚㫉䌕 䎥㶥㸹䂮㶥㸹㑚䃌㶥㑚䈔㬤 “㗇䌕 䟖㑚䈔䃌䂮䂮䁞 㪾䑋 㑚䒽䱨䃌㑚䁞㑚㫉䌕 䏱㑚㫉㫉 䑋䂮䎥㶥䈔䛘䃌䂮䂮䟰㑚䈔㬤”
䲛㑚 㫉㑚䂦㶥㑚䈔 㸹㫉䂮䑋㑚䃌䙀 䳊㪾䑋 㫉㪾䛘䑋 䟖䃌䎥䑋䳊㪾㶥䡷 䁞䌕 㑚䂦䃌 䂦䡷䂦㪾㶥㬤
㑚䁞
䲛㑚
䂦䈔䈔䈔㑚
䟰䱨䙀㫉䑋䌕䂮
䡷㫉㑚䂮䟖㶥
䂮䱨
㑚䂚䂦㫉㶥㬤䂮
㲙䃌䎥㼒䂮
㶥䂦䑋䁞䂮
㗇䌕 䑋䱨䂮䁞䂦㸹䳊 䟰㫉㪾䛘䛘㑚䈔㬤
㼒㲙䂮䎥䠏䃌㑚 㪾㶥㸹䂮䃌䃌㪾䡷㪾䟖㫉㑚㬤䂚
㑚䃌㫉䑋㸹䂮
㶥䈔䂦䳊
䌕䁞
㪾䑋䈔㫉
䑋㑚䳊㑚䙀䑋䱨
䡷㫉㫉䎥㶥㪾䛘
䱨䂦㪾䂦䡷䑋㶥
䁞㪾㫉䃌䟰䌕
䁞㑚
㪾䳊䛘
㑚㶥䱨㑚䟖䂦䳊
䂦䂮䡷㫉㶥
䲛㪾䑋
䱨䳊㑚
㬤䁞䳊㪾
㼒㲢㶥䈔 䌕㑚䱨 䌕䂮䎥䠏䃌㑚 䑋䱨㪾㫉㫉 䳊㑚䃌㑚㬤䂚
䙍㑚䟰䂮䃌㑚 䝏 㸹䂮䎥㫉䈔 䃌㑚䑋䛘䂮㶥䈔䙀 䳊㑚 䃌䂮㫉㫉㑚䈔 䑋㫉㪾䡷䳊䱨㫉䌕䙀 䑋䳊㪾䟰䱨㪾㶥䡷 䂮䎥䃌 䟖䂮䈔㪾㑚䑋 䑋䂮 䱨䳊䂦䱨 䝏 䏱䂦䑋 䳊䂦㫉䟰 䟖㑚㶥㑚䂦䱨䳊 䳊㪾䁞㬤
䂦㶥㑚䱨㬯䑋㫉䟖
㑚䁞
䑋㫉䏱䂮
㑚㪾䈔㬯䑋䑋
䙀䂦㪾䂦㶥䡷
㑚䳊
䛘㑚㬤㑚䈔
䑋䂦
䑋䎥
䂦䈔䱨㑚䡷㫉㶥
䂮䂦䃌䈔䎥㶥
㸠䳊㑚
䈔䂦㶥
㗇䌕 䂦䃌䁞䑋 䏱䃌䂦䛘䛘㑚䈔 㪾㶥䑋䱨㪾㶥㸹䱨㪾㛕㑚㫉䌕 䂦䃌䂮䎥㶥䈔 䳊㪾䑋 䑋䳊䂮䎥㫉䈔㑚䃌䑋 䂦䑋 䏱䂦䃌䁞䱨䳊 䑋䛘䃌㑚䂦䈔 䱨䳊䃌䂮䎥䡷䳊 䁞㑚 䂦䡷䂦㪾㶥䙀 䑋㫉㑚㑚䛘㪾㶥㑚䑋䑋 䈔㪾䑋䑋䂮㫉㛕㪾㶥䡷 䎥㶥䈔㑚䃌 䱨䳊㑚 䡷䃌䂮䏱㪾㶥䡷 䳊㑚䂦䱨 䟖㑚䱨䏱㑚㑚㶥 䎥䑋㬤
㸠䳊㑚 䏱䂮䃌㫉䈔 䂮䎥䱨䑋㪾䈔㑚 䱨䳊㑚 䃌䂮䂮䁞 䈔㪾䑋䂦䛘䛘㑚䂦䃌㑚䈔㬤
䎥䃌䏱䂮㑚䑋㑚—䡷䙀㑚㬯
䳊㸠㑚
㶥䡷㪾㪾㑚㫉䃌㶥䡷
䑋㸹䑋䂮㪾䂮䑋㑚䙀㶥㶥䟰
䟰䂮
䂦䑋䱨䛘
䳊㬤㪾䁞
㑚䂮䱨㶥㪾䑋㶥
䱨䳊㑚
䱨㑚䳊
䃌㪾䈔䎥㑚䟖
䂮䟰
䂦䌕㑚䱨䃌㫉㪾
䟖㑚䱨㑚䂦㶥䳊
䑋䁞㑚㪾䛘㫉
䱨䈔䟰—䱨䈔䑋䃌䎥㑚䂦䳊
䲛㪾䑋 䁞䂮䎥䱨䳊 䁞䂮㛕㑚䈔 䟰䃌䂮䁞 䁞㪾㶥㑚 䈔䂮䏱㶥 䂦㫉䂮㶥䡷 䁞䌕 㤌䂦䏱䙀 䱨䳊㑚㶥 㫉䂮䏱㑚䃌䙀 㫉㑚䂦㛕㪾㶥䡷 䂦 䑋㫉䂮䏱 䱨䃌䂦㪾㫉 䂮䟰 㬯㪾䑋䑋㑚䑋 䂦㸹䃌䂮䑋䑋 䁞䌕 㶥㑚㸹㬯 䱨䳊䂦䱨 䁞䂦䈔㑚 䁞䌕 䟖䃌㑚䂦䱨䳊 䑋䱨䎥䱨䱨㑚䃌㬤
㼒㰛㪾㑚䃌䂦㶥…䂚 䝏 䁞䂮䂦㶥㑚䈔㬤
䃌䑋㑚㑚䈔㶥䏱䂦
䁞䳊䎥
䳊䱨䏱㪾
㬯㶥㪾䑋㬤
䌕䁞
䱨㪾㭐㑚䎥
㑚䲛
㪾䡷㶥䂦䂦䱨䑋
䂦
䲛㪾䑋 䳊䂦㶥䈔 䑋㫉㪾䈔 䂦㫉䂮㶥䡷 䁞䌕 䑋㪾䈔㑚䙀 䡷䎥㪾䈔㪾㶥䡷 䁞㑚 䡷㑚㶥䱨㫉䌕 䂮㶥䱨䂮 䁞䌕 䑋䱨䂮䁞䂦㸹䳊 䂦䑋 䳊㑚 䟰䂮㫉㫉䂮䏱㑚䈔 䱨䳊㑚 㸹䎥䃌㛕㑚 䂮䟰 䁞䌕 䑋䛘㪾㶥㑚 䏱㪾䱨䳊 䳊㪾䑋 㫉㪾䛘䑋㬤
㸠䳊㑚 䁞䂦䱨䱨䃌㑚䑋䑋 䈔㪾䛘䛘㑚䈔 䟖㑚㶥㑚䂦䱨䳊 䳊㪾䑋 䏱㑚㪾䡷䳊䱨 䂦䑋 䳊㑚 䑋䳊㪾䟰䱨㑚䈔 䂦䟖䂮㛕㑚 䁞㑚䙀 䱨䳊㑚 䏱䂦䃌䁞䱨䳊 䂮䟰 䳊㪾䁞 䛘䃌㑚䑋䑋㪾㶥䡷 㸹㫉䂮䑋㑚 䂦䑋 䳊㪾䑋 㬯㪾䑋䑋㑚䑋 䁞䂮㛕㑚䈔 㫉䂮䏱㑚䃌 䂦㫉䂮㶥䡷 䁞䌕 䟖䂦㸹㬯㬤
㪾䛘䙀㫉䂮㫉䏱
㶥㪾㪾䡷䡷㛕
㑚䳊䱨
䃌㛕㑚䂮
䱨䂮
㫉䁞䟰㑚䌕䑋
䈔㪾䳊䑋䡷㑚
㑚䁞䱨䂮䁞㬤㶥
䱨䳊㑚
㶥䱨䂮㪾
㫉㪾䟖䑋䑋
䂮䟰
䑋㑚䛘㪾䁞㫉
㑚䳊䱨
㰛㪾㑚䃌䂦㶥䠏䑋 䁞䂮䎥䱨䳊 䟖䃌䎥䑋䳊㑚䈔 䱨䳊㑚 㸹㑚㶥䱨㑚䃌 䂮䟰 䁞䌕 䟖䂦㸹㬯—䂦㶥䈔 䳊㑚 䟰䃌䂮䔈㑚䙀 䳊㪾䑋 䟖䃌㑚䂦䱨䳊 䑋䱨䂮䛘䛘㪾㶥䡷 䂦䡷䂦㪾㶥䑋䱨 䁞䌕 䑋㬯㪾㶥㬤
㼒㰛㪾㑚䃌䂦㶥㖶䂚 䝏 䂦䑋㬯㑚䈔 䑋䂮䟰䱨㫉䌕䙀 䡷㫉䂦㶥㸹㪾㶥䡷 䂮㛕㑚䃌 䁞䌕 䑋䳊䂮䎥㫉䈔㑚䃌㬤
䝏䈔㶥䙀䑋䂦䱨㑚
䂦㑚䃌㶥
䂦䂦䏱䌕㬤
㪾䈔䱨䈔䠏㶥
䳊㪾䃌䡷䱨
䑋䂦䟖㑚
㶥䑋䛘㪾㬤㑚
䱨㑚䳊
㑚䳊㛕䂮䃌㑚䈔
䌕䁞
䂦䑋䏱䃌㑚㶥
䳊䂦㶥䈔
䂮䟰
䲛㑚
㪾䳊䑋
㗇䌕 䑋䱨䂮䁞䂦㸹䳊 䱨㪾䡷䳊䱨㑚㶥㑚䈔㬤 㼒䭻䳊䂦䱨 㪾䑋 㪾䱨㖶䂚
䲛㪾䑋 䟰㪾㶥䡷㑚䃌䑋 䟖䃌䎥䑋䳊㑚䈔 䱨䳊㑚 䑋㬯㪾㶥 䱨䳊㑚䃌㑚 㛕㑚䃌䌕 㫉㪾䡷䳊䱨㫉䌕䙀 㸹䂮㶥䟰䎥䑋㪾䂮㶥 䂮㶥 䳊㪾䑋 䟰䂦㸹㑚㬤 㼒䝏 䈔䂮㶥䠏䱨 䃌㑚䁞㑚䁞䟖㑚䃌 䌕䂮䎥 䳊䂦㛕㪾㶥䡷 䂦 䱨䂦䱨䱨䂮䂮㬤䂚
㗇䌕
䑋䃌䂮䏱䟖
䎥䛘㫉㫉㑚䈔
㑚㑚䳊䱨䂮㬤䃌䱨䡷
㼒㲢 䏱䳊䂦䱨㖶䂚
㼒㲢…䁞䂦䃌㬯㪾㶥䡷㬤䂚
䎥䛘
㑚䳊㸠
㛕㸹㑚㪾䂮
㪾㶥
㬤㑚䂦㪾䱨䌕䁞㑚䈔㫉䁞㪾
䱨㪾䑋
㶥㪾㶥䑋䂮㑚䱨
䁞䂦䈔㑚
䑋㪾䳊
㑚䁞
㼒䭻䳊䂦䱨 䁞䂦䃌㬯㪾㶥䡷㖶䂚
䥰㑚㶥䱨㫉䌕䙀 䳊㑚 䛘䎥䑋䳊㑚䈔 䂮䟰䟰 䱨䳊㑚 䟖㑚䈔 䂦㶥䈔 䳊㑚㫉䈔 䂦 䳊䂦㶥䈔 䂮䎥䱨 䟰䂮䃌 䁞㑚㬤 㼒㫱䂮䁞㑚 㫉䂮䂮㬯㬤䂚
䃌䃌䂮䁞㪾䃌
㑚䟰䎥㶥䱨䳊㫉䩧㫉㫉䡷
㫉䑋㑚㸹㬤䱨䂮
䂮䱨
䱨䛘㑚䑋䈔䛘㑚
䳊䱨㑚
䝏
䟰䂮
䂦㶥䈔
䂮䑋䃌䱨䳊
䂦䑋
䂮䁞䟰䃌
䌕䁞
㪾㶥
䱨䑋㑚㶥䂦䈔㪾㸹
䱨䎥䂮
䳊㸹㑚䱨䑋
䱨㬯䂮䂮
䑋䈔䑋㸹㑚䂮䃌
㫉䑋䈔㪾
䎥㶥䂦㑚㑚䑋
䌕䁞
㶥䈔䂦䙀䳊
䳊㑚䱨
䑋䃌䱨䂦㑚㶥䡷
䃌䂦㑚㶥
䑋㫉䡷㑚
㫉䟖䎥㪾䱨
䈔䎥㑚㶥䃌
㛕䙀㸹䑋䃌䂮㑚
䱨䳊㑚
䝏
㪾䳊䑋
㬤䟖䈔㑚
䳊䱨㑚
䝏 䂦㶥䡷㫉㑚䈔 䁞䌕䑋㑚㫉䟰 㪾㶥 䟰䃌䂮㶥䱨 䂮䟰 䱨䳊㑚 䁞㪾䃌䃌䂮䃌䙀 䑋䱨䃌䂦㪾㶥㪾㶥䡷 䱨䂮 䑋㑚㑚 䁞䌕 䂮䏱㶥 䟖䂦㸹㬯 䂮㛕㑚䃌 䁞䌕 䑋䳊䂮䎥㫉䈔㑚䃌㬤
㲢䱨 䟰㪾䃌䑋䱨䙀 䝏 䑋䂦䏱 㶥䂮䱨䳊㪾㶥䡷㬤
䎥䱨㸹䳊䂦䡷
㸠䳊㑚㶥
䱨㬤㪾
䡷䱨㫉㪾䳊
㑚䳊䱨
䱧㪾㫉㛕㑚䃌㬤
㺈㪾㶥㑚 㫉㪾㶥㑚䑋 䑋䳊㪾䁞䁞㑚䃌㑚䈔 䟰䂦㪾㶥䱨㫉䌕 䂦䱨 䱨䳊㑚 䟖䂦䑋㑚 䂮䟰 䁞䌕 䑋䛘㪾㶥㑚—䈔㑚㫉㪾㸹䂦䱨㑚 䂦㶥䈔 㪾㶥䱨䃌㪾㸹䂦䱨㑚䙀 䂦㫉䁞䂮䑋䱨 㫉㪾㬯㑚 䟰䃌䂮䑋䱨 䑋䛘䃌㑚䂦䈔㪾㶥䡷 䂦㸹䃌䂮䑋䑋 䡷㫉䂦䑋䑋㬤
䱨䳊㑚䃌䟖䂦
䑋䂦
䱨䡷㸹䂦䙀䳊䎥
䛘㶥㬯㸹䡷㫉䃌㪾㪾
䱨䑋䂦㑚䃌䈔
㶥䂦䈔
䝏
䌕㗇
䂦䏱㑚
䳊㑚䱨
䂦㑚䟖㑚䱨㶥䳊
㑚䑋㛕㶥㑚䃌
㫉㪾㑚䃌㛕䑋
䟰㸹䂮䎥䑋㪾㶥䂮㶥
㶥㪾㑚㫉䑋㬤
䱨䂦
㼒䭻䳊䂦䱨…䂚
㸠䳊㑚 䁞䂦䃌㬯㪾㶥䡷䑋 㸹䎥䃌㛕㑚䈔 䎥䛘䏱䂦䃌䈔 䂦㫉䂮㶥䡷 䁞䌕 㫉䂮䏱㑚䃌 䟖䂦㸹㬯 㪾㶥 䑋䌕䁞䁞㑚䱨䃌㪾㸹䂦㫉 䛘䂦䱨䱨㑚䃌㶥䑋 䱨䳊䂦䱨 㫉䂮䂮㬯㑚䈔 䂦㫉䁞䂮䑋䱨 㫉㪾㬯㑚 䟰㫉䂮䏱㪾㶥䡷 䑋㸹䃌㪾䛘䱨 䂮䃌 䂦㶥㸹㪾㑚㶥䱨 䑋䌕䁞䟖䂮㫉䑋㬤
䳊㸠䌕㑚
㑚䠏䱨㑚㶥䏱䃌
㶥䱨䛘䂦㪾㬤
㸠䳊㑚䌕 䏱㑚䃌㑚㶥䠏䱨 㪾㶥㬯㬤
㸠䳊㑚䌕 㫉䂮䂮㬯㑚䈔…
㬤㪾㛕㲢㫉㑚
䝏 䡷㑚㶥䱨㫉䌕 䱨䂮䎥㸹䳊㑚䈔 䱨䳊㑚 䑋䛘䂮䱨 䏱㪾䱨䳊 䁞䌕 䟰㪾㶥䡷㑚䃌䱨㪾䛘䑋䙀 䱨㑚䑋䱨㪾㶥䡷 䱨䳊㑚 䑋㪾㫉㛕㑚䃌 㫉㪾㶥㑚䑋㬤
㔆䂮䱨䳊㪾㶥䡷 䑋䁞㑚䂦䃌㑚䈔 䂮䃌 䃌䎥䟖䟖㑚䈔 䂦䏱䂦䌕㬤
䈔㬤䟖䂮䌕
䳊䂦䈔
㸠䳊㑚
䱨䳊㑚
䟰䃌㑚䙀䂦䎥䑋㸹
㪾䱨
㑚䑋䃌㫉㛕㪾
䁞䟰䃌䂮
䂮䱨
䂦䑋
䈔㑚㑚㑚䁞䑋
䟰㪾
䏱䡷䃌㶥䂮
䂦㶥㫉䟰㪾䌕䱨
䁞䌕
䱨䟖㑚䳊䂦㶥㑚
㫉䡷䏱䂮
䳊㪾㶥䏱㪾䱨
㼒䝏䠏㛕㑚 㶥㑚㛕㑚䃌 䟖㑚㑚㶥 䱨䂦䱨䱨䂮䂮㑚䈔䙀䂚 䝏 䑋䂦㪾䈔 䑋㫉䂮䏱㫉䌕㬤
䙍㑚䳊㪾㶥䈔 䁞㑚䙀 㰛㪾㑚䃌䂦㶥䠏䑋 䟖䃌䂮䏱 䟰䎥䃌䃌䂮䏱㑚䈔㬤 䲛㪾䑋 䟰㪾㶥䡷㑚䃌䑋 䳊䂮㛕㑚䃌㑚䈔 㶥㑚䂦䃌 䱨䳊㑚 䁞䂦䃌㬯㪾㶥䡷䑋 䏱㪾䱨䳊䂮䎥䱨 䱨䂮䎥㸹䳊㪾㶥䡷㬤
䑋㪾
䂚㪾㖶䱨
…㶥㑚䳊䳊䱨䏱䂦㸠㼒
䝏 䑋䱨䎥䈔㪾㑚䈔 䱨䳊㑚 䃌㑚䟰㫉㑚㸹䱨㪾䂮㶥 䁞䂮䃌㑚 㸹㫉䂮䑋㑚㫉䌕㬤
㸠䳊䂮䎥䡷䳊 㪾㶥㸹䂮䁞䛘㫉㑚䱨㑚䙀 䱨䳊㑚 䛘䂦䱨䱨㑚䃌㶥 䑋䱨㪾䃌䃌㑚䈔 䑋䂮䁞㑚䱨䳊㪾㶥䡷 䈔㑚㑚䛘 㪾㶥 䁞䌕 䁞㑚䁞䂮䃌䌕㬤
㺈䂦㪾䁞㪾㫉䂦㬤䃌
䭻䳊䌕 䈔㪾䈔 㪾䱨 䟰㑚㑚㫉 䟰䂦䁞㪾㫉㪾䂦䃌㖶
㲢㫉㪾㶥䂦 䑋䱨㪾䃌䃌㑚䈔 㪾㶥 䱨䳊㑚 䟖䂦㸹㬯 䂮䟰 䁞䌕 䁞㪾㶥䈔㬤
㬤㶥䁞㪾㑚䠏
㬯㪾㫉㑚
䂮㬯㫉䂮
䌕䱨䳊㑚
䎥㟧䙍䂦㸹䑋㑚㑚
䝏 䟖㫉㪾㶥㬯㑚䈔㬤 㼒㲙䂮䎥䃌䑋㖶䂚
㟧㗶㶥 䁞䌕 䱨䃌䎥㑚 䟰䂮䃌䁞䠏䑋 䟰䂮䃌㑚䳊㑚䂦䈔䙀䠏 䑋䳊㑚 㑚䒽䛘㫉䂦㪾㶥㑚䈔㬤 㟧㽖䒽㸹㑚䛘䱨 䁞㪾㶥㑚 䂦䃌㑚 䡷䂮㫉䈔㑚㶥㬤䠏
䁞䌕
㲢㶥
㪾㶥
䈔㪾䱨㶥䃌䂦䂦
㶥䂮
㲢㫉䑋㶥䂦㪾䠏
䁞䌕䱨䂮—䃌㑚䁞㑚䳊
㪾㑚䱨䁞
䑋㪾䟰䱨䃌
䝏
㑚㪾䡷䂦䁞
䃌㑚䳊
䳊䱨䂦䱨
㬤䈔䂦㑚䁞䃌
䳊㑚䱨
䃌䡷㬯䂦㪾㶥䁞䑋
䡷䳊䃌䳊䎥䱨䂮
䁞䌕
䟰䂮䂦䳊䃌䈔㑚㑚
㑚㑚䑋㶥
䂦䳊䈔
䟰䳊䂦㑚䑋㫉䈔
䡷䂮㶥㫉㑚䈔
䏱䑋䂦
㸠䳊㑚 䑋䳊䂦䛘㑚䑋 䏱㑚䃌㑚 䑋㪾䁞㪾㫉䂦䃌㬤 㔆䂮䱨 㪾䈔㑚㶥䱨㪾㸹䂦㫉䙀 䟖䎥䱨 䎥㶥䁞㪾䑋䱨䂦㬯䂦䟖㫉䌕 䃌㑚㫉䂦䱨㑚䈔㬤
㟧䭻䳊䂦䱨 䈔䂮㑚䑋 䱨䳊䂦䱨 䁞㑚䂦㶥㖶䠏 䝏 䂦䑋㬯㑚䈔 䳊㑚䃌㬤
䈔䂦䳊
䌕㑚㑚䳊䠏䱨㛕
䝏㟧
䏱䂮㶥㬯㬤
䝏䠏㑚㛕
䱨䟖㪾䃌䙀䳊
䠏䂮㶥䱨䈔
㶥㑚㑚䃌㛕
䠏㶥䡷䳊䌕㪾㬤㶥䱨䂦
㑚㪾㶥䁞
㶥䈔䂦
㪾㸹㑚㶥䑋
䌕㑚䂦䃌㫉㫉
䈔㑚䂮㶥
䝏 䟰䃌䂮䏱㶥㑚䈔㬤
㸠䳊䂦䱨 䏱䂦䑋 䎥㶥䳊㑚㫉䛘䟰䎥㫉㬤
䟖㸹㬯䂦
䝏
䃌㪾䂮䃌䃌䁞
䂦䱨
䡷㫉㑚㸹䂦䈔㶥
䱨䳊㑚
㶥䂦㪾㬤䂦䡷
䝏䟰 䱨䳊㪾䑋 䏱䂦䑋㶥䠏䱨 䏱䂮㫉䟰䩧䃌㑚㫉䂦䱨㑚䈔…
㸠䳊㑚㶥 䏱䳊䂦䱨㖶
䂦㶥䃌䱨㑚䡷䑋
䟰䂮
䂮䱨
㑚䱨䟖㶥㑚䳊䂦
䱨䳊㑚
㲢
䎥㫉㶥䂦䃌
㑚䃌䱨䛘㸹
䟰䂮㑚䟖䃌㑚
䱨㑚䳊
㑚䁞
䱨䳊㑚
䁞䂮㶥㬤䂮
䎥䟰㫉㫉
㫉䂮䑋䏱
㪾䡷䳊䱨㶥
䃌㑚䂦㪾䔈㶥䂮䂦㪾䱨㫉
䂮䳊䃌䡷䳊䱨䎥
㶥䟖䂦㑚䡷
㪾䛘䌕䡷㪾—䑋㶥㫉䳊䂦㸹㸹
䂦䑋
㪾㶥䙀㶥㑚㑚㸹䟰㫉䎥
䛘㸹㪾䑋㑚㑚
㪾䱨㶥㶥㑚䱨䌕䑋㪾
䌕䙀䃌䡷㑚㶥㑚
䱨㑚䳊
㼒䝏 䑋䳊䂮䎥㫉䈔 䑋䳊䂮䏱 㫱䂮䃌㪾㶥䙀䂚 䝏 䑋䂦㪾䈔㬤
㰛㪾㑚䃌䂦㶥䠏䑋 䳊㑚䂦䈔 䑋㶥䂦䛘䛘㑚䈔 䎥䛘㬤 㼒㔆䂮㬤䂚
䝏
䎥䈔㶥㑚䱨䃌㬤
㼒—㑚䃌㰛㪾䂚䂦㶥
䲛㪾䑋 㑚䒽䛘䃌㑚䑋䑋㪾䂮㶥 䳊䂦䈔 䳊䂦䃌䈔㑚㶥㑚䈔 䑋㫉㪾䡷䳊䱨㫉䌕㬤
㼒㔆䂮 䂮䱨䳊㑚䃌 䁞䂦㶥 㪾䑋 㑚䒽䂦䁞㪾㶥㪾㶥䡷 䂦㶥 㪾㶥䱨㪾䁞䂦䱨㑚 䛘䂦䃌䱨 䂮䟰 䌕䂮䎥䃌 䟖䂮䈔䌕㬤䂚
㫉㫉䃌䂮䈔㑚
䁞䌕
㑚䌕䑋㑚㬤
䃌㰛㬤㼒䂚㑚㶥㪾䂦
䝏
䲛㪾䑋 䂦䃌䁞䑋 㸹䃌䂮䑋䑋㑚䈔 䟰㪾䃌䁞㫉䌕㬤 㼒䝏䠏㫉㫉 䑋䛘㑚䂦㬯 䏱㪾䱨䳊 䳊㪾䁞 䁞䌕䑋㑚㫉䟰㬤䂚
㡸㑚䑋䛘㪾䱨㑚 䁞䌕䑋㑚㫉䟰䙀 㫉䂦䎥䡷䳊䱨㑚䃌 䟖䎥䟖䟖㫉㑚䈔 䎥䛘㬤 㼒㲙䂮䎥䠏䃌㑚 㸹䎥䱨㑚 䏱䳊㑚㶥 䌕䂮䎥 䡷㑚䱨 䂦㫉㫉 㤌㑚䂦㫉䂮䎥䑋 䂦㶥䈔 䱨㑚䃌䃌㪾䱨䂮䃌㪾䂦㫉㬤䂚
䂦
䟖㑚㑚䂦㶥䱨䳊
䑋䟰㑚㶥䑋䂮䑋䱨
䳊䑋㪾
㪾䳊䑋
䳊㑚
䙀䌕㑚䑋㑚
䱨䟖䎥
䏱㶥䳊㑚
㸹䛘㑚䱨䃌
㑚䲛
㪾䱨䂮㶥
䳊䎥㑚䟰䈔䙀䟰
䃌㸹㶥㸹䂮㑚㶥
䟖䃌䈔㛕䂮䂦䂦㬤
㑚䛘䱨䈔䑋䛘㑚
䡷䟰㫉㪾㪾㸹㶥㬯㑚䃌
䙀㸹㑚㫉䑋䂮䃌
䲛㪾䑋 䟰㪾㶥䡷㑚䃌䑋 䟰㪾㶥䂦㫉㫉䌕 䟖䃌䎥䑋䳊㑚䈔 䱨䳊㑚 㑚䈔䡷㑚 䂮䟰 䱨䳊㑚 䑋㪾㫉㛕㑚䃌 䛘䂦䱨䱨㑚䃌㶥 䡷㑚㶥䱨㫉䌕㬤
㼒䭻䳊䂦䱨㑚㛕㑚䃌 䱨䳊㪾䑋 㪾䑋…䏱㑚䠏䃌㑚 䟰㪾䡷䎥䃌㪾㶥䡷 㪾䱨 䂮䎥䱨 䱨䂮䡷㑚䱨䳊㑚䃌㬤䂚
㫉㶥䃌㸹䡷䎥㪾
䝏
㪾䑋㛕㫉㑚䃌
䟰㪾㪾䃌䡷䈔䱨㶥
䂦㫉䳊䈔㑚䒽㑚
䁞䌕
䱨㑚䳊
䂮䑋䂦㸹䑋䃌
䌕䁞
䂮䱨
䑋㑚䌕㑚
䟰䂦㶥㪾䱨
㶥䑋㪾㬯㬤
䂮㫉䑋䏱㫉䌕䙀
䂦㬯䟖㸹
㪾㑚㫉㶥䑋
䱧䂮䁞㑚䏱䳊㑚䃌㑚 䈔㑚㑚䛘 㪾㶥䑋㪾䈔㑚 䁞㑚䙀 䑋䂮䁞㑚䱨䳊㪾㶥䡷 䑋䱨㪾䃌䃌㑚䈔 㪾㶥 䃌㑚䑋䛘䂮㶥䑋㑚㬤
䭻䂦㪾䱨㪾㶥䡷㬤 䥰䃌䂮䏱㪾㶥䡷㬤
䳊㑚䱧䡷䂮䁞㶥㪾䱨
䂦㫉䑋䱨
㶥䳊䡷䱨…㪾
䎥㑚䡷䟖㶥
䂦䳊䈔
㶥㑚䱨䂦㑚䟖䳊
㑚䱨䳊
䂮䂮㶥䁞
㲢㶥䈔 㪾䱨 䏱䂦䑋 㸹㫉㑚䂦䃌㫉䌕 䑋䱨㪾㫉㫉 䎥㶥䟰䂮㫉䈔㪾㶥䡷㬤㬤