THE POST OFFICE
33
Dairyman
Not a bit; it has been no loss to me at all; you have taught me how to be happy selling curds. [Exit]
Amal [Intoning]
Curds, curds, good nice curds from the dairy village from the country of he Panch-mura hills by the Shamli bank. Curds, good curds; in the early morning the women make the cows stand in a row under the trees and milk them, and in the evening they turn the milk into curds. Curds, good curds. Hello, there's the watchman on his rounds. Watchman, I say, come and have a word with me.
Watchman
What's all this row you are making? Aren't you afraid of the likes of me?
Amal
No, why should I be?
