The girl's hot hands clutched the soft packet of sandwiches and a little black handbag that yesterday Aunt Anne had bought for her in the village.

It was a shabby little bag, and had strange habits of opening when it was not expected to do so and remaining shut when something was needed from it.
It gaped now and, just as the cab climbed Cator Hill, it fell forward and flung the contents on to the floor.

Maggie, blushing, looked up expecting a reproof.

She saw that her aunt's eyes were fixed upon the view; as upon the day of her arrival, so now.

Her face wore a look of rapture.