after we've given them a nice little
taste of prison life in America, they're going to be sent back home--to
see what India can treat them to.

MADELINE: Why are you so pleased about this, Emil?

EMIL: Pleased? It's nothin' to me--I'm just telling you. Guess you don't
know much about the Espionage Act or you'd go and make a little friendly
call on your uncle. When your case comes to trial--and Judge Lenon may
be on the bench--(_whistles_) He's one fiend for Americanism. But if
your uncle was to tell the right parties that you're just a girl, and
didn't realize what you were saying--

MADELINE: I did realize what I was saying, and every word you've just
said makes me know I meant what I said. I said if this was what our
country has come to, then I'm not for our country. I said that--and
a-plenty more--and I'll say it again!

EMIL: Well--gee, you don't know what it means.

MADELINE: I do know what it means, but it means not being a coward.

EMIL: Oh, well--Lord, you can't say everything you think. If everybody
did that, things'd be worse off than they are now.

MADELINE: Once in a while you have to say what you think--or hate
yourself.

EMIL: (_with a grin_) Then hate yourself.

MADELINE: (_smiling too_) No thank you; it spoils my fun.

EMIL: Well, look-a-here, Madeline, aren't you spoiling your fun now?
You're a girl who liked to be out. Ain't I seen you from our place, with
this one and that one, sometimes all by yourself, strikin' out over the
country as if you was crazy about it? How'd you like to be where you
couldn't even see out?

MADELINE: (_a step nearer the cell_) There oughtn't to be such places.

EMIL: Oh, well--Jesus, if you're going to talk about that--! You can't
change the way things are.

MADELINE: (_quietly_) Why can't I?

EMIL: Well, say, who do you think you are?

MADELINE: I think I'm an American. And for that reason I think I have
something to say about America.

EMIL: Huh! America'll lock you up for your pains.

MADELINE: All right. If it's come to that, maybe I'd rather be a
locked-up American than a free American.

EMIL: I don't think you'd like the place, Madeline. There's not much
tennis played there. Jesus--what's Hindus?

MADELINE: You aren't really asking Jesus, are you, Emil? (_smiles_) You
mightn't like his answer.

EMIL: (_from the door_) Take a tip. Telephone your uncle.

(_He goes_.)

IRA: (_not looking at her_) There might be a fine, and they'd come down
on