The train ran into Victoria Station and pandemonium.
A struggling mass of people trying to get out, another mass trying to get
in; everybody pushing and muttering, grunting and groaning; and above all
the howling of the Specially Selected Band of Hustlers in their now famous
and unpopular performance:--
"'Urry up off the car, please. WAIT till they're all off. Move right down
the centre, please. Wot are you doin' there? Come orf it if you're comin'
orf. Get a move on, please. 'Urry up on board. Come on there. RIGHT
BEHIND."
A siren shrilled and we were moving again.
"Can't you set the kid down, Mother?" said a voice. "You can't carry her
like that. Be quiet, 'Enry, will you."