One night last week, while shots rang in the distance, a little man hurried furtively through the streets of Jerusalem with a parcel under his arm. He stopped at the house where the advance party (two men and two women) of the United Nations Palestine Commission was staying. Glancing quickly about him, he rang the doorbell, handed in his parcel, and dashed off. In the package were a chicken, a leg of lamb, carrots, lettuce, eggplant and two loaves of bread.
The man was a British policeman who had taken it upon himself to keep the advance party alive. For...
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