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... would growl at me angrily if I changed on my own. Whether I bend or straighten my arm, I had to match her movements. At the beginning we had no understanding. Changing clothes was like a fight, which made me think I'd better do it myself. But now I was naturally in her service. "I am a little like a noble daughter." I thought as I waited for her to comb my hair, but she was distracted, and then suddenly murmured,
"It's better than I thought."
"What?"
She said it so sudde ...
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