Explore "Auntie Robbo" by Ann Scott-Moncrieff on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Well, that was a near thing!" said Auntie Robbo to the carriage at large.
They had got their things hoisted into the rack with a deal of bumping and apologizing, and now they had all settled back in their seats, breathing heavily. Auntie Robbo mopped her brow with a six-inch square of lace handkerchief. She and Hector sat facing the young-old man and the three children. And though they sat so demurely, looking out as the lighted buildings and streets of Edinburgh whirled away behind them, Hector could see that the children were consumed with mirth inside themselves. Every now and then they nudged each other or burst out coughing.