"She shall just be kept in herself, to see what it feels like."
"Won't she just be savage!"
"Serve her right!"
Vivien, having finished to her satisfaction the particular little bit of carpentering upon which she had been engaged, put away her tools at last, and turned to leave. She was very much surprised to find that she could not open the door. She rattled the handle, thinking it had stuck. Then she suddenly realized that it was locked, and that she was a prisoner. She hammered till her knuckles were sore, and shouted, but nobody came. It struck her that she was in an exceedingly awkward position. The handicraft room was some little distance from the house. It was improbable that Miss Kingsley, Miss Janet or the maids would hear her. The window was nailed up, and would not open, so escape that way was impossible. Had those wretched juniors locked her in on purpose, and scooted off home? She stamped with wrath at the idea. Yet it seemed only too probable. If so, would she have to spend the night here? The prospect was appalling. She made a last despairing assault on the door. To her immense relief a voice on the other side responded. It was a deep, gruff, evidently feigned voice, and it said:
"Hullo, there!"
"Hullo! Let me out!" shouted Vivien.
"No, thanks! You're better where you are!"
"Let me out, I tell you!"
"Gently! Gently! Don't show temper!"
Vivien seized the handle again, and rattled lustily, but with no effect. She thought she heard a noise like suppressed chuckling.