Amal. I don't know; the doctor won't let me out.
Girl. Ah me! Don't then! Should listen to the doctor. People'll be cross with you if you're naughty. I know, always looking out and watching must make you feel tired. Let me close the window a bit for you.
Amal. No, don't, only this one's open! All the others are shut. But will you tell me who you are? Don't seem to know you.
Girl. I am Sudha.
Amal. What Sudha?
Sudha. Don't you know? Daughter of the flower-seller here.
Amal. What do you do?
Sudha. I gather flowers in my basket.
Amal. Oh, flower gathering! That is why your feet seem so glad and your anklets jingle so merrily as you walk. Wish I could be out too. Then I would pick some flowers for you from the very topmost branches right out of sight.
Sudha. Would you really? Do you know more about flowers than I?