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"Let us go, then," said Vaninka; and, dragging out the heart-broken girl, she locked the door behind her and threw the key far away into the snow. "In the name of Heaven," said Annouschka, "let us go home quickly: I cannot gaze upon this awful sight!" "No, let us stay here!" said Vaninka, holding her back with a grasp of almost masculine strength.
He closed the door and turned the key softly, took off his things and put on a thick dressing-gown over his pyjamas; then he sat down in a chair, with his hands thrust in the dressing-gown pockets, his head sunk on his breast, his teeth gnawing his lip. He was listening intently.
"Here's the lamentable end of town Inneraora!" said John, in a doleful key. And we ran, the three of us, up the Fisherland burn side to the wood of Creag Dubh.
"I never like to keep William waitin' for 'is tea." A cold wave swept over Chook. He had clean forgotten William, who would go home to Botany Street and find an empty house. Pinkey dived into the bedroom, and left Chook to face it out. "'Ere's yer key," he said helplessly, to make a beginning.
And this key covered with cheese, from one end to the other!" "Let us go to the cellar!" said the father. "I believe we shall find out more there than we can here." They opened the door, and found the brilliant silver knife, not in the magpie's nest, but sticking in a cheese, from which a large portion appeared to have been detached. The children were amazed, and their Father much grieved.
And at this inopportune moment the key turned harshly and the door swung open. The light of a lantern coming down the steps blinded them for a moment. Behind the lantern peered the yellow face of the turnkey. "Ho, there, Americano! They want you up above," the man said. "The generals, and the colonels, and the captains want a little talk with you before they hang you, senor."
Have you ever heard that name?" "I have heard people speak of Jane Finn, I think." "You don't know where she is?" Annette shook her head. "She's not in this house, for instance?" "Oh no, monsieur. I must go now they will be waiting for me." She hurried out. The key turned in the lock. "I wonder who 'they' are," mused Tommy, as he continued to make inroads on the loaf.
The wicked king now began to learn that the way of the transgressor is hard, and in his fury of disappointment he locked the door of the dungeon in which his brothers lay and threw the key into the stream, leaving them to die of starvation.
I think of a lovely reader laying down the page and looking over at her unconscious husband, asleep, perhaps, after dinner. Yes, madam, a closet he hath: and you, who pry into everything, shall never have the key of it.
She waited to turn the key in the door, and withdrew it from the lock. Then she followed her husband down the corridor, and a minute or two later rejoined him in the fragrant and balmy midnight air of Monaco.
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