On a chilly May midnight long after the hour when they usually go to bed, thousands of good Dutchmen packed Rotterdam's quays. The well-to-do in their American automobiles with headlights glaring and horns shriekingformed a traffic jam for a mile along the River Maas. The middle-to-do on bicycles pedaled vigorously along in their own continuous stream of traffic. The little-to-do on foot crowded the quays, staring into the beam of a great searchlight. Broad Dutch faces beamed, deep Dutch shouts rose louder than the shrieking horns. For slowly, a great new...
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