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... my room on the second floor of the village mayor’s house.
It was drying in good condition either because of the dry air or it was hung in a warm place as much as possible. There was no longer a trace of the past when it was tapped like a water bottle. The color was dark, and it wrinkled.
While chewing on the hard bread that was mixed with the leavening agent received in Reform and I baked myself, I got lost in thought.
In the end, the warring policy didn’t change, and it ...
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