itches hung from the posts, and the shelves were loaded with
pieces of bacon tempting the eye with a streak of lean in a wilderness
of fat. The buyers watched hungrily as the keen knife slipped into the
rich meat, and the rasher, thin as paper, fell on the board like the
shaving from a carpenter's plane. The dealer, wearing a clean shirt
and white apron, served his customers with smooth, comfortable
movements, as if contact with so much grease had nourished his body and
oiled his joints.

When Chook elbowed his way to the corner where Joe Crutch and Waxy
Collins had promised to meet him, there was no sign of them, and he
took another turn up the middle arcade. It was now high tide in the
markets, and the stream of people filled the space between the stalls
like a river in flood. And they moved at a snail's pace, clutching in
their arms fowls, pot-plants, parcels of groceries, toys for the
children, and a thousand 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
ivor