odd, nameless trifles, bought for the sake of buying, because they were
cheap. 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. A tremor
ran through his limbs and his pulse quickened. And he was seized with an
insane desire to kiss the white flesh, pale as ivory against her red hair.
The crowd moved, and Pinkey wriggled to the other side.