Collapsing into an armchair, he held his head in his hands.
“I can’t stay here any longer. One word from that woman, and we’ll both be on the next train for the camps. Inhuman things are happening in those places. And in any case, it is time you got out. Did you do what I told you?”
“What camps?”
“Yes, I did as you instructed.” From a purse, she drew out a passport.
I peered over Metz’s shoulder as he examined it with a magnifying glass he had slipped out of his trouser pocket. The passport had Annie’s photograph but someone else’s name. “Excellent job they did,” he commented, handing it back to her. “There is a train tonight, for Zurich.”
“Not there. I will be going to Rome.” She slid the passport back into her bag.
“To Rome? But it is not safe with that mad Mussolini.”
“I will be
