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For he saw that Tommy had under his arm a big loaf, and the steam of newly-baked bread was fragrant in his nostrils. Never smoke so gracious greeted those of incense-loving priest. Tommy tugged and tugged, but Clare stood stock-still. "Where did you get that beautiful loaf, Tommy?" he asked. "Off on a baker's cart," said Tommy. "Don't be skeered; he never saw me!