From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. ‘And if it was not for that imbecile of a Gérard, who has put his soldiers to watch for me, it would not need that I make it. I don’t want to stop your singing. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt.
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