"Robert!" she called through the key-hole.
"Is it you, mother?"
"Yes. Are you locked in?"
"Yes."
"Where is the key?"
"In Mr. Talbot's pocket, I presume."
"Why did he lock you in?"
"Because I would not agree to saw and split the wood in place of Mr. Webber next week."
"That is shameful. Poor boy! and you have had no breakfast."
"And am not likely to have, unless you can pass some through the key-hole. You see what sort of a man you have married, mother."