She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. "Your enemy!" she returned imperfectly comprehending him. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. Here, then, but for the time and place, might be another Sidney Carton. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be.
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