A babel of broken conversation, questions and replies, jests and laughter, drowned the cries of the dealers, and a strong, penetrating odour of human sweat rose on the hot air.

From time to time a block occurred, and the crowd stood motionless, waiting patiently until they could move ahead.

In one of these sudden blocks Chook, who was craning his neck to watch the vegetable stalls, felt someone pushing, and turning his head, found himself staring into the eyes of Pinkey, the red-haired.
"'Ello, fancy meetin' yous," cried Chook, his eyes dancing with pleasure.
The curious pink flush spread over the girl's face, and then she found her tongue.
"Look w'ere ye're goin'.

Are yer walkin' in yer sleep ?" "I am," said Chook, "an' don't wake me; I like it." But the twinkle died out of his eyes when he saw Stinky Collins, separated from Pinkey by the crowd, scowling at him over her shoulder.
He ignored Chook's friendly nod, and they stood motionless, wedged in that sea of human bodies until it chose to move.
Chook felt the girl's frail body pressed against him.

His nostrils caught the odour of her hair and flesh, and the perfume mounted to his brain like wine, The wonderful red hair, glittering like bronze, fell in short curls round the nape of her neck, where it had escaped from the comb.