"You might just unlock that desk for me, will you?" she said. And,
further, as she went through the keys one by one to select the right
key: "Each quarter I've put your precious Mr Herbert Calvert's rent in a
drawer in that desk. ... Here's the key." She held up the whole ring by
the chosen key, and he accepted it. And she lay back once more in her
chair, exhausted by her exertions.

"You must turn the key sharply in the lock," she said weakly, as he
fumbled at the locked part of the desk.

So he turned the key sharply.

"You'll see a bag in the little drawer on the right," she murmured.

The key turned round and round. It had begun by resisting, but now it
yielded too easily.

"It doesn't seem to open," he said, feeling clumsy.

The key clicked and slid, and the other keys rattled together.

"Oh yes," she replied. "I opened it quite easily this morning. It
_is_ a bit catchy."

The key kept going round and round.

"Here! I'll do it," she said wearily.

"Oh no!" he urged.