ⒺⓁ ⓂⒶⓇ ⓃⓄⓈ ⓁⓁⒺⓋⒶ

ⒺⓁ ⓂⒶⓇ ⓃⓄⓈ ⓁⓁⒺⓋⒶ Ⓐ ⓁⒶ ⒸⒶⒷⒺⓏⒶ ⒾⓃⓂⒺⓃⓈÍⓈⒾⓂⒶ ⒹⒺ ⓁⒶ ⓂⓊⒿⒺⓇ ⒹⒺⓁ ⓈⓊⒺÑⓄ, ⓆⓊⒺ ⒶⒷⓇⒺ ⓁⒶ ⒷⓄⒸⒶ, ⓉⓇⒶⒼÁⓃⒹⓄⓃⓄⓈ.
ⓁⓊⒺⒼⓄ ⒹⒺ ⓊⓃⒶ ⒺⓉⒺⓇⓃⒾⒹⒶⒹ Ⓐ ⓄⓈⒸⓊⓇⒶⓈ, ⒺⓁ ⓈⓄⓁ ⓃⒶⓇⒶⓃⒿⒶ ⓈⒶⓁⒺ ⓅⓄⓇ ⒺⓁ ⓄⒺⓈⓉⒺ. ⒶⓉⓇⒶⒸⒶⓂⓄⓈ ⒺⓃ ⓊⓃ ⓅⓊⒺⓇⓉⓄ ⓄⓂⒾⓃⓄⓈⓄ. ⓃⓄⓈ ⓇⒺⒸⒾⒷⒺⓃ ⒽⓄⓂⒷⓇⒺⓈ ⒹⒺ ⒽⓊⒺⓈⓄ, ⒸⓄⓃ ⒸⒶⒷⒺⓏⒶ ⒹⒺ ⓉⓄⓇⓄ. ⓃⓄⓈ ⒸⓄⓃⒹⓊⒸⒺⓃ Ⓐ ⓊⓃⒶ ⒸⓊⒺⓋⒶ. ⒺⓃ ⓁⒶ ⒸⓊⒺⓋⒶ, ⓊⓃⒶ ⓂⓊⒿⒺⓇ ⓋⒺⓇⒹⒺ ⒸⓄⓃ ⓁⒶⓈ ⒸⓊⒺⓃⒸⒶⓈ ⓋⒶⒸÍⒶⓈ ⓃⓄⓈ ⒹⒾⒸⒺ:
“ⓊⓃ ⓁⒾⒷⓇⓄ ⓋⒶⓁⒺ ⓂÁⓈ ⓆⓊⒺ ⓁⒶⓈ ⓅⒾⓇÁⓂⒾⒹⒺⓈ ⒹⒺ ⒺⒼⒾⓅⓉⓄ…¿ⒶⓁⒼⓊⒾⒺⓃ ⓅⓊⒺⒹⒺ ⒽⓄⓎ ⒸⓄⓂⓅⒶⓇⒶⓇⓈⒺ ⒸⓄⓃ ⒽⓄⓇ-ⒹⒺⒹⒺⒻ? ¿ⒶⓁⒼⓊⒾⒺⓃ ⒽⒶⓎ ⓈⒺⓂⒺⒿⒶⓃⓉⒺ Ⓐ ⒾⓂⒽⓄⓉⒺⓅ?... ⓁⓄⓈ ⓆⓊⒺ ⓅⓇⒺⒹⒾⒿⒺⓇⓄⓃ ⒺⓁ ⒻⓊⓉⓊⓇⓄ ⓈⒺ ⒽⒶⓃ ⒾⒹⓄ, ⒽⒶⓃ ⓈⒾⒹⓄ ⓄⓁⓋⒾⒹⒶⒹⓄⓈ ⓉⓄⒹⓄⓈ, ⓈⒶⓁⓋⓄ ⓁⓄⓈ ⓆⓊⒺ ⒺⓈⒸⓇⒾⒷⒾⒺⓇⓄⓃ ⓊⓃ ⓁⒾⒷⓇⓄ. ⓎⓄ ⓃⓄ ⒺⓈⒸⓇⒾⒷÍ ⓃⒾⓃⒼÚⓃ ⓁⒾⒷⓇⓄ, ⒶⓈÍ ⓆⓊⒺ ⓃⒶⒹⒾⒺ ⓋⒶ Ⓐ ⓇⒺⒸⓄⓇⒹⒶⓇⓂⒺ…” ⒺⓃ ⒺⓈⓉⓄ ⓈⒺ ⒶⓈⓄⓂⒶⓃ ⒹⓄⓈ ⓇⒶⓉⒶⓈ ⓅⓄⓇ ⓁⒶⓈ ⒸⓊⒺⓃⒸⒶⓈ ⓋⒶⒸÍⒶⓈ, Ⓨ ⓁⒶⓈ ⓇⒶⓉⒶⓈ ⒸⒶⓃⓉⒶⓃ:
“ⒺⓁ ⓈⓄⓁ ⓈⒺ ⓁⒺⓋⒶⓃⓉⒶ
Ⓨ ⓎⒶ ⓃⓊⓃⒸⒶ ⓈⒺ ⓅⓄⓃⒺ
ⒺⓁ ⓈⓄⓁ
Ⓨ ⓁⒶ ⓁⓊⓃⒶ
ⓈⓄⓃ ⓁⓄⓈ ⓄⒿⓄⓈ ⓆⓊⒺ ⓃⓄⓈ ⒽⒶⒸⒺⓃ ⒻⒶⓁⓉⒶ
ⓅⒶⓇⒶ ⓋⒺⓇ ⓂⒺⒿⓄⓇ
ⓅⒶⓇⒶ ⓋⒺⓇ ⒹⒺ ⓁⒺⒿⓄⓈ
ⓁⓄ ⓆⓊⒺ ⒺⓈⓉÁ ⓁⒺⒿⓄⓈ
Ⓨ ⒹⒺ ⒸⒺⓇⒸⒶ
ⓁⓄ ⓆⓊⒺ ⒺⓈⓉÁ ⒸⒺⓇⒸⒶ”.
ⒺⓁ ⒺⓃⒶⓃⓄ ⒺⓈⒸⓊⓅⒺ ⒻⓊⒺⒼⓄ, ⓆⓊⒺⓂⒶⓃⒹⓄ Ⓐ ⓁⒶ ⓂⓊⒿⒺⓇ ⓋⒺⓇⒹⒺ, ⓁⒶⓈ ⓇⒶⓉⒶⓈ ⒽⓊⓎⒺⓃ ⒺⓃ ⓁⓁⒶⓂⒶⓈ, ⓅⒺⓇⒹⒾÉⓃⒹⓄⓈⒺ ⒺⓃ ⓁⓄ ⓂÁⓈ ⓅⓇⓄⒻⓊⓃⒹⓄ ⒹⒺ ⓁⒶ ⒸⓊⒺⓋⒶ.


35.-
ⒶⒷⓇⓄ ⓁⓄⓈ ⓄⒿⓄⓈ. ⒺⓁ ⓈⓄⓁ ⓈⒾⒼⓊⒺ ⒺⓃ ⓈⓊ ⓁⓊⒼⒶⓇ, ⓆⓊⒺⓂⒶⓃⒹⓄ ⓁⒶⓈ ⓋⒺⓃⓉⒶⓃⒶⓈ. ⓁⒶ ⓄⓇⓊⒼⒶ ⓇⓄⓃⒸⒶ ⒺⓃ ⒺⓁ ⓈⓊⒺⓁⓄ. ⒺⓁ ⒻⓁⒶⓆⓊⒾⓉⓄ, ⒺⓃ ⓁⒶ ⒸⒶⓂⒶ, ⒶⓁ ⓁⒶⒹⓄ ⓂÍⓄ, ⓂⒺ ⓅⓇⒺⒼⓊⓃⓉⒶ, ⒸⒶⓈⒾ ⓈⓊⓈⓊⓇⓇⒶⓃⒹⓄ:
“¿ⒶⒹÓⓃⒹⒺ ⒺⓈⓉⓊⓋⒾⓈⓉⒺ?”