From: [[]] A crowd of Londoners faces the Bazaar, exulting, weeping at the miracle of it. Some sing hymns. One is selling hastily assembled golden ribbons. A Yelping Patriot claims it's a French trick. [Find the rest of the story at ] __NOEDITSECTION__
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| - From: [[]] A crowd of Londoners faces the Bazaar, exulting, weeping at the miracle of it. Some sing hymns. One is selling hastily assembled golden ribbons. A Yelping Patriot claims it's a French trick. [Find the rest of the story at ] __NOEDITSECTION__
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| Success title
| - Whose memories are these?
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| From Card/Storylet title
| - ...a fading wash of sunlight?
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| Success description
| - The first descent, the unnaming of flight, that was forgiven and all shall be well. So It said. The second, a shrug and a time. It was fair[…]. The third, oh the rage at the deceptions of sand.
All of us were, all of us, and now all of us will.
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| Description
| - A crowd of Londoners faces the Bazaar, exulting, weeping at the miracle of it. Some sing hymns. One is selling hastily assembled golden ribbons. A Yelping Patriot claims it's a French trick.
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| abstract
| - From: [[]] A crowd of Londoners faces the Bazaar, exulting, weeping at the miracle of it. Some sing hymns. One is selling hastily assembled golden ribbons. A Yelping Patriot claims it's a French trick. [Find the rest of the story at ] __NOEDITSECTION__
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