Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. “Nigel, don’t you understand. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. 216 “Please, get dressed.
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