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"It's hard to say, because I've never been tortured and I can't be sure how I'd stand it. But

what I should have done is plain enough-hang myself in my cell, or open my veins, rather than

let Göring get hold of any foreign exchange to use in keeping his spies and thugs at work."

IV

Rick talked along the same line to Mama and Rahel; he was the only one who had the

courage to do it. He spoke gently, and with pity for their tears, but he told them that the only

way he knew of helping Freddi was by writing an anti-Nazi play. He bade them ask themselves

what Freddi would want them to do. There could be no doubt about the answer, for Freddi was

a devoted Socialist, and would rather die than give help to the enemies of his cause. Rahel

could see that, and said so. Mama could see it, also—but couldn't bring herself to say it.

"Consider this," persisted Rick. "Suppose that what Göring wanted of Freddi was to betray

some of his comrades. It's quite possible that that may be happening; and would he pay that

price for his freedom?"

"Of course he wouldn't," admitted the young wife.

"Well, money's the same thing. The Nazis want foreign exchange so they can buy weapons and

the means to make weapons. They want it so they can pay their agents and carry on their

propaganda in foreign lands. And in the end it adds up to more power for Nazism, and more

suffering for Jews and Socialists. These Hitlerites aren't through; they never can be through so

long as they live, because theirs is a predatory system; it thrives on violence, and would perish

otherwise. It has to have more and more victims, and if it gets money from you it uses the

money to get more money from the next lot. So whatever resources we have or can get, have

to go to fighting them, to making other people understand what Nazism is, what a menace it

represents to everything that you and I and Freddi stand for."

Rick spoke with eloquence, more than he usually permitted himself. The reason was that it was

a scene from his play. He was writing about people confronted with just such a cruel

decision. He didn't say: "Let's all put our money and our labors into get ting an anti-Nazi

play produced, and use the proceeds to start a paper to oppose the Nazis." But that was what

he had in mind, and Rahel knew that if her husband could speak to her, he would say: "Rick is

right."

But poor Mama! She was no Socialist, and couldn't make real to herself the task of saving all the

Jews in Germany. She kept silence, for she saw that Rick had convinced Rahel and Lanny; but

what gave her hope was a letter from Johannes, about to sail for Rio de Janeiro to try to work

up business for Budd Gunmakers. "I'm going to get some money again, and then I'll find a

way to get Freddi out." That was the sort of talk for a sensible Jewish mother!

V

The Riviera was full of refugees from Germany; all France was the same. Many of these

unfortunates tried to get hold of Lanny Budd, but he was afraid even to answer their letters.

He was still clinging to the idea that Göring might release Freddi; if not, Lanny was going

back to make some sort of effort. Therefore he had to be circumspect. Trying to play the spy

makes one spy-conscious. How could he be sure that any refugee who appealed to him for aid

might not have come from Göring, to find out how he was behaving, and whether he was a

person to be dealt with?

All this suited Irma completely. She didn't care what was the reason, so long as her husband

kept away from Reds and troublemakers. She and Beauty and Emily and Sophie consulted and

conspired to keep him busy and contented; to provide him with music and dancing and

sports, with interesting people to talk to, with Jerry Pendleton and the faithful Bub Smith to

go fishing. Best of all for the purpose was little Frances; Irma got a book on child psychology

and actually read every word of it, so as to be able to make intelligent remarks, and keep

Lanny interested in what his home had to offer. She made love to him assiduously; and of

course he knew what she was doing, and was touched by it. But he took Dachau with him

everywhere; at one of Emily's soirées musicales a strain of sad music brought tears to his eyes,

and then a pro-Nazi remark by one of the ladies of the haut monde made the blood rush to

his head and ruined his appetite for the delicate viands.

Early in February Robbie Budd arrived in Paris on a business trip. Irma thought that change

of scene would help, and she knew that the father would back her point of view; so they put

their bags into the car and arrived at the Crillon the evening before Robbie was due. Always a

pleasant thing to see that man of affairs, sound and solid, if a little too rotund and rosy. He was

taking his loss of the presidency of the company as just one of those things; what can't be cured

must be endured, and Robbie was getting along with the new head. A self-made man, well

informed on financial conditions, he had won everyone's respect; he didn't try to tell Robbie