As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. She did not resist him, she could not. “You are in a private room of St. " "How?" exclaimed the other. "Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head. The crown has passed from the brow of one monarch to that of another. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. “Yes,” he said, “I want to get away.
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