Others were taking photographs with their cameras.

They were waiting for the show to begin.
Shere Ali followed the example of his neighbour and cursed them.

All his anger kindled again and quickened into hatred.

They were so careful of themselves, so careless of others! "Not a Mohammedan," he cried to himself, "must set foot in their graveyard at Lucknow, but they come to our mosque as to a show." Suddenly he saw the priest climb the ladder on to the high wooden platform in front of the central arch of the mosque and bow his forehead to the floor.

His voice rang out resonant and clear and confident over that vast assemblage.
"There is only one God." And a shiver passed across the rows of kneeling men, as though unexpectedly a wind had blown across a ripe field of corn.