From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. It’s an emerald. "Yes!" interrupted Spurlock, savagely. I was extremely subtle—in fact, as devious as Melusine. It'll be turning over to-morrow. "Who's that queer cove in the full-bottomed wig?" "Attend to me, sirrah," rejoined Wild, sternly.
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