64
THE POST OFFICE
Madhav
No, you don't; you squat there and make friends with the whole lot of people round here, old and young, as if they are holding a fair right under my eaves flesh and blood won't stand that strain. Just see your face is quite pale.
Amal
Uncle, I fear my fakir'U pass and not see me by the window.
Madhav
Your fakir, whoever's that?
Amal
He comes and chats to me of the many lands where he's been. I love to hear him.
