It was a noisy street until a whistle sounded at the farther end, then all was silence while the voice of Henshaw came through the megaphone.
It appeared that long shots of the street were Henshaw's first need.

Up and down it Merton Gill strolled in a negligent manner, stopping perhaps to haggle with the vendor who sold sweetmeats from a tray, or to chat with a tribal brother fresh from the sandy wastes, or to purchase a glass of milk from the man with the goats.

He secured a rose from the flower seller, and had the inspiration to toss it to one of the discreet balconies above him, but as he stepped back to do this he was stopped by the watchful assistant director who stood just inside a doorway.

"Hey, Bill, none of that! Keep your head down, and pay no attention to the dames.

It ain't done." He strolled on with the rose in his hand.