1 She threw herself back on her pillow and buried her face.
2 "But the door was locked and the key was buried," said Mary.
3 "Perhaps it has been buried for ten years," she said in a whisper.
4 It seemed even stranger than the secret garden and the buried key.
5 Because when you were born the garden door was locked and the key was buried.
6 It was more than a ring, however; it was an old key which looked as if it had been buried a long time.
7 Mary looked at it, not really knowing why the hole was there, and as she looked she saw something almost buried in the newly-turned soil.
8 He had supplied doctors and nurses and luxuries, but he had shrunk from the mere thought of the boy and had buried himself in his own misery.
9 So one beautiful still evening Dickon told the whole story, with all the thrilling details of the buried key and the robin and the gray haze which had seemed like deadness and the secret Mistress Mary had planned never to reveal.
10 Besides that, if she liked it she could go into it every day and shut the door behind her, and she could make up some play of her own and play it quite alone, because nobody would ever know where she was, but would think the door was still locked and the key buried in the earth.