“What are they stopping us for?”
“Close up, brothers.”
“Who are you shoving?”
“It’s not me that’s shoving.”
“This way for the harem. Get your money ready.”
“The whistle will be gone. We shall be fined half a peseta.”
“What are they stopping us for?”
No one could answer that question.
Hi could make out that several times a minute one or two people in front were allowed to pass on. At every such passing the crowd surged forward till they were all jammed up together, feeling breathless and inclined to faint. They could hear a kind of catechism going on at the barrier, voices bullying and voices submissive.
“Why can’t they let us pass? What are they asking?”