Mrs. Schiller.
Immediately, Gottfried?
Doctor.
[Nodding.] Then and there—from that very
moment.
Mrs. Schiller.
Oh dear! Oh dear! It will be a terrible blow to
us. But we must keep up heart, and as soon as the
war is over——
Doctor.
Are we to starve in the meantime, Marie?
Mrs. Schiller.
Don't say that, Gottfried. Our income will be
less, and we shall have to pinch. But there is Fritz.
Before the war began his directors promised him a
rise in his salary at Christmas, and only this evening
when he went off to the office——
[The door on R. has opened again, and a young man has entered; about twenty-nine; intelligent-looking, rather cynical.
Mrs. Schiller.
Fritz!
Fritz.
Mother!
Mrs. Schiller.
[Nervously.] Have you—have you come back for
something?
Fritz.
[Laughing bitterly.] Yes, for good.
