O'Higgins know the truth; he wouldn't be reckless with the funds, then. She had warned him. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. He resumed his listening. “Beautiful these autumn flowers are,” said Ann Veronica, in a wide, uncomfortable pause.
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