She knew the key had already been turned in the lock, from the outside; the only thing between her and the freedom of the open hall was one small bolt shaft.
But before she could open the door Pobloff, with a little grunt of startled rage, was upon her.

She fought and scratched like a cat.

The blanket tumbled down and curtained them, the plumed hat fell from the woman's disheveled head, a chair was overturned.

But he was too strong and too quick for her.

With one lithe arm he pinioned her two hands close down to her sides, crushing the very breath out of her body.
With his other he beat off the muffling blanket, and dragged her away from the door.