Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. . Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells. "Let him remain," interposed Trenchard.
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