The gnome sprang from the table with a cry that would have been like the roar of a wounded wild beast if it had not articulated a terrific blasphemy.
"Unorna is quite safe," the Wanderer hastened to say.
"Safe--where ?" shouted the little man, his hands already on his furs.
The Individual, too, had sprung across the room like a cat and was helping him.

In five seconds Keyork would have been out of the house.
"In a convent.

I took her there, and saw the gate close behind her." Keyork dropped his furs and stood still a moment.

The Individual, always unmoved, rearranged the coat and cap neatly in their place, following all his master's movements, however, with his small eyes.

Then the sage broke out in a different strain.