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They had learned to weave from birth, it seemed. She watched the weavers at their looms, their sleeping babies curled up in the slings on the mothers’ backs, lulled to sleep by he thudding of the beater on the finished cloth.
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They had learned to weave from birth, it seemed. She watched the weavers at their looms, their sleeping babies curled up in the slings on the mothers’ backs, lulled to sleep by he thudding of the beater on the finished cloth.