From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. ” Lucy put the back of her hand to Michelle’s forehead. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. It was his belief that the French had enough troubles of their own in these difficult times without bothering to nose out British business.
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