Unorna's own mind was clearly wandering, or else she had invented the story, supposing him credulous enough to believe it.

In either case it did not deserve a moment's consideration except as showing to what lengths her foolish and ill-bestowed love could lead her.
Meanwhile she was in danger.

She had aroused the violent and deadly resentment of Israel Kafka, a man who, if not positively insane, as Keyork Arabian had hinted, was by no means in a normal state of mind or body, a man beside himself with love and anger, and absolutely reckless of life for the time being, a man who, for the security of all concerned, must be at least temporarily confined in a place of safety, until a proper treatment and the lapse of a certain length of time should bring him to his senses.

For the present, he was wholly untractable, being at the mercy of the most uncontrolled passions and of one of those intermittent phases of blind fatalism to which the Semitic races are peculiarly subject.
There were two reasons which determined the Wanderer to turn to Keyork Arabian for assistance, besides his wish to see the bad business end quickly and without publicity.

Keyork, so far as the Wanderer was aware, was himself treating Israel Kafka's case, and would therefore know what to do, if any one knew at all.