He wheeled behind her as she turned, facing the priestess, club upraised, fangs glistening.

His troop moved not a jot, spears held high.

Lakla began to pass slowly--almost, I thought, tauntingly--and as she reached the portal Larry leaped from the dais.
"_Alanna_!" he cried.

"You'll not be leavin' me just when I've found you!" In his excitement he spoke in his own tongue, the velvet brogue appealing.

Lakla turned, contemplated O'Keefe, hesitant, unquestionably longingly, irresistibly like a child making up her mind whether she dared or dared not take a delectable something offered her.
"I go with you," said O'Keefe, this time in her own speech.