For the first time she understood how perilous such a crowd might be.

A band of roisterers, linked arm in arm, were trying to break up the orderly march of thousands into a chaotic fight.

The point for which Crewe made was unattainable; just in front of him a woman began shrieking hysterically; another fainted, and dropped into her neighbour's arms.
'Don't get frightened!' 'Not I! I like it.

It's good fun.' 'You're the right sort, you are.

But we must get out of this.