Amal. When will this great doctor come for me? I can't stick in here any more.
Watchman. Shouldn't talk like that, my child.
Amal. No. I am here where they have left me—I never move a bit. But when your gong goes off, dong, dong, dong, it goes to my heart. Say, Watchman?
Watchman. Yes, my dear.
Amal. Say, what's going on there in that big house on the other side, where
there is a flag flying high up and the people are always going in and out?
Watchman. Oh, there? That's our new Post Office.
Amal. Post Office? Whose?
Watchman. Whose? Why, the King's surely!
Amal. Do letters come from the King to his office here?