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        At the end of the room was a dias in an apse formed from a bay window.   On the dias were a piano, a lecturn, and chairs for Mr and Mrs Darby and their special guests.   Darby was in full flight at the lecturn, haranguing an attentive audience on the need to liberate the mainland of China from the ungodly communists.

        The audience seemed to be drawn from a mixture of ethnic groups.   Round oriental faces contrasted with those showing slavic features.   Most of the people were past middle age, and were dressed sombrely, as for a church service.   Many bore the same faded sadness about them that I had noticed in the aging communists:   Showing the strains of continuing to carry a banner for an unpopular cause. This was a meeting of the Australia China Friendship Society.

         Then Darby spotted us.   He stopped his speech in mid-sentence:

        "Ladies and Gentlemen!   Let me announce the arrival of my dear fwiend, the member for Manly, Mr. Alan Stewart, and his lovewly wife," he announced, beckoning to us.

        As we walked down the aisle, the people on either side stood up and clapped.   Darby    waited at the lecturn, and when we arrived below it, he asked   us to sit on the dias.   As I climbed past him,   Darby wispered in my ear:   

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