Let me take him away." "Leave him to me," she answered imperiously.

"He will obey me." But Israel Kafka did not turn.

He rested one hand upon the slab and faced her.

As when many different forces act together at one point, producing after the first shock a resultant little expected, so the many passions that were at work in his face finally twisted his lips into a smile.
"Yes," he said, in a low tone, which did not express submission.

"Leave me to her! Leave me to the Witch and to her mercy.