The kindly American consul-general had himself taken her to the bank, where her banknotes had been exchanged for a letter of credit, and had thoroughly advised her. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. Grasping one of chairs about the little table, he drew it forward and sat astride it, in a fashion as insolent as it was unexpected. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. ‘That is settled then.
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