Mrs. Schiller.

Sunk? Did they mean the soldiers on those troopships?

Fritz.
Yes, the British soldiers who were being sent over to slaughter our own.

Mrs. Schiller.
But you had nothing to do with that, had you, Fritz?

[Margaret raises her head and listens. Fritz laughs bitterly. Doctor Schiller makes a warning gesture to him.

Fritz.
Never mind whether I had or hadn't. It all came to the same thing, mother. I was paid a month's salary and—sacked! [Laughs bitterly.]

Mrs. Schiller.
[Rocking herself in her chair.] Oh dear! Oh dear! Just what happened to your father.

Fritz.
Father, too!

Mrs. Schiller.
Yes, yes, they've behaved badly to both of you. But it's all the war, and when things have got down to their worst they are sure to mend. So——

Margaret.
[Whose face has grown more and more dark with gathering passion.] But who knows if things have got down to their worst, auntie?