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On the grass in the Imperial Garden, a bracelet was
laying forsaken. His owner must have come from afar, since it was made in the
country where bankers forget the names of their customers.
We could not find him, until we went to the Chief of the
Guards. There he was, poor foreigner, so happy to recover his good!
"I know him, sait the Master. He said he was going to make a song of it." | |
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