The other woman hugged herself in pain.

The man was in no hurry to be up, having once felt Claude's knee in the small of his back.

For a few seconds no one moved; and when they recovered themselves he was half-way to the Royaumes' door.
They snatched up mud, then, and flung it after the pair with shrill execrations.

And the woman who had picked up the stick hurled it in a frenzy after them, but wide of the mark.

A dozen stones fell round them, and the cry of "The Witch! The Witch!"-- cry so ominous, so cruel, cry fraught with death for so many poor creatures--followed hard on them.
But they were within five paces of the door now, and if he could lift her to the window---- "The key," she murmured in his ear.