berger. [Shows it to him.] Is this your handwriting?
Mate—If you say it is
Juhasz—Mate, don't make it harder for me. It's painful enough as it is. And I have so little time. . . . Is this your handwriting?
Mate—Well, yes.
Juhasz—There, you see! [A brief pause. He looks at his watch.]
Mate—Well, I know what to expect. Get it over with.
Juhasz—You are a traitor, Mate. This letter proves it.
Mate—That's all right. You can discharge me if you want to.
Juhasz—Why do you make it harder for me, Mate? Do you think I like to do this? . . . You don't even say a word in your own defense.
Mate—What's the use of my saying anything? I know that I've got the sack.
Juhasz—But how could you do such a thing? Why did you do it? Why?
Mate—If I told you, you wouldn't believe me. I'm a liar, I am. Everybody says so.
Juhasz—Don't be so pig-headed! Did you . . . perhaps . . . need the money for something urgent?. . . You haven't a family, have you?
Mate—I have a crippled father.
