She turned very pale and hesitated.

Then she ran forward to overtake him, but he, hearing her approach, quickened his stride, seeming but little hampered in his pace by the burden he bore.
But Unorna, too, was fleet of foot and strong.
"Stop!" she cried, laying her hand upon his arm.

"Stop! Hear me! Do not leave me so!" But he would not pause, and hurried onward towards the gate, while she hung upon his arm, trying to hinder him and speaking in desperate agitation.

She felt that if she let him go now, he would leave her for ever.

In that moment even her hatred of Kafka sank into insignificance.
She would do anything, bear anything, promise anything rather than lose what she loved so wildly.
"Stop!" she cried again.