34
THE POST OFFICE
Watchman
Suppose I march you off then?
Amal
Where will you take me to? Is it very far, right beyond the hills?
Watchman
Suppose I march you straight to the King?
Amal
To the King! Do, will you? But the doctor won't let me go out. No one can ever take me away. I've got to stay here all day long.
Watchman
Doctor won't let you, poor fellow! So I see! Your face is pale and there are dark rings round your eyes. Your veins stick out from your poor thin hands.
