"We had some chance before. Not so much, but still some.
Now we shall be beaten to our knees, stamped into the dust, straight
down to hell." He threw himself into a chair and pressed his hands
against his face.
"But when?" Gisela watched him warily. If these were tactics they were
admirable; but who more full of theatric devices than the Kaiser he
adored?
"Years hence, no doubt--if we continue to hold the Social-Democrats in
hand and drug the people. We'll fight on until our enemies' might proves
that they are right and we were fools. That is all there is to war."
Gisela sat down and let her hands fall into her lap with a little
pathetic motion of weakness. "Sometimes I wish the Socialists were
strong enough to win and end it all," she said plaintively.
"Oh, no, you don't. You are a junker, for all your independent notions,
and trying to put some of your own nerve into the women. I read you with
great amusement before the war. But no one knows better than yourself
that the triumph of democracy in Germany would mean the end of us."
"I cannot see that we are enjoying many privileges at present--unless it
be the privilege to lie rather than be lied to. And when our enemies do
win we shall be pried out, root and branch. So, why not save our skins
at all events? I do not mean mine, of course--nor, for that matter, am I
thinking of our class; but of the hundreds of thousands of our dear
young men who might be spared--"
"Better die and have done with it.
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