The men in lace and linen lay back in their seats to give vent to loud guffaws, and the women flirted their fans coquettishly before their eyes, or used them to tap the heads of their male companions in mild and roguish remonstrance.
"Pity they didn't debauch the stage as well as the pulpit and bar, if this is its condition inviolate," whispered the little man again.
The intervals between the acts were occupied by part of the audience in drinking from the bottles which they carried strapped about their waists, and in singing snatches of songs.

One broad-mouthed roysterer on the ground proposed the King's health, and supported the toast by a ballad in which "Great Charles, like Jehovah," was described as merciful and generous to the foes that would unking him and the vipers that would sting him.

The chorus to this loyal lyric was sung by the "groundlings" with heartiness and unanimity:-- Let none fear a fever, But take it off thus, boys; Let the King live forever, 'Tis no matter for us, boys.
Ralph found the atmosphere stifling in this place, which was grown noisome now to wellnigh every sense.

He forced his way out through the swaying bodies and swinging arms of the occupants of the pit.

As he did so he was conscious, though he did not turn his head, that close behind him, in the opening which he made in the crowd, his inevitable "Shadow" pursued him.
The air breathed free and fresh outside.