When he saw Unorna advance, he quickly placed himself between her and Israel Kafka, and looked from one to the other.
"Who is this man ?" he asked.

"And what does he want of you ?" Unorna made as though she would pass him.

But he laid his hand upon her arm with a gesture that betrayed his anxiety for her safety.

At his touch, her face changed for a moment and a faint blush dyed her cheek.
"You may well ask who I am," said the Moravian, speaking in a voice half-choked with passion and anger.

"She will tell you she does not know me--she will deny my existence to my face.