He locked the door and went away again.
"Oh, Lyndall," said Em, entering the dining room, and bathed in tears, that afternoon, "I have been begging Bonaparte to let him out, and he won't." "The more you beg the more he will not," said Lyndall.
She was cutting out aprons on the table.
"Oh, but it's late, and I think they want to kill him," said Em, weeping bitterly; and finding that no more consolation was to be gained from her cousin, she went off blubbering--"I wonder you can cut out aprons when Waldo is shut up like that." For ten minutes after she was gone Lyndall worked on quietly; then she folded up her stuff, rolled it tightly together, and stood before the closed door of the sitting room with her hands closely clasped.

A flush rose to her face: she opened the door quickly, and walked in, went to the nail on which the key of the fuel-room hung.

Bonaparte and Tant Sannie sat there and saw her.
"What do you want ?" they asked together.
"This key," she said, holding it up, and looking at them.
"Do you mean her to have it ?" said Tant Sannie in Dutch.
"Why don't you stop her ?" asked Bonaparte in English.
"Why don't you take it from her ?" said Tant Sannie.
So they looked at each other, talking, while Lyndall walked to the fuel-house with the key, her underlip bitten in.
"Waldo," she said, as she helped him to stand up, and twisted his arm about her waist to support him, "we will not be children always; we shall have the power, too, some day." She kissed his naked shoulder with her soft little mouth.

It was all the comfort her young soul could give him..