favorites, Achron's
it; it was quite wonderful, and the fashionable audience was deeply moved. The tears ran down
Hansi's own cheeks, and he would have liked to say: "It is my people, weeping now in
Germany."
But no, he couldn't say anything, it wouldn't have been good form; art must remain inside its
ivory tower, and not descend onto that darkling plain where ignorant armies clash by night.
Elegantly gowned ladies with sensitive souls enjoy mournful tones from the G-string of a
fiddle, but do not care to weep over a bunch of Jews being beaten and kicked in the
underground dungeons of old castles and prisons on the other side of the eastern border.
15
I
HANSI and Bess didn't return to Germany. Papa and Mama forbade them to come, and
Lanny forbade them to go; Robbie Budd cabled, forbidding Bess; and more important yet,
Adolf Hitler forbade them both. He did it by hunting down and jailing all prominent
Communists, and making it plain that they could no longer exert any influence or accomplish
any purpose in Germany. The policy of
hadn't worked on the outside world, but could surely be made to work inside the Fatherland.
There was the Lodge at Bienvenu, and the young couple settled down in it. Beauty felt exactly
as Irma did, she didn't want Reds about her, or want her home to have such an atmosphere;
but she, too, had been a guest on the
make a return; nor could she fail in kindness to Robbie's daughter. A compromise was
worked out without ever a word being said about it; Hansi and Bess didn't invite their Red
friends to the estate, but met them in Juan or Cannes. That helped a little, but not entirely, for
the young couple couldn't help bringing their troubles home with them in their thoughts and
aspect.
It was the same thing Lanny had witnessed ten years ago, when Mussolini had seized power.
Swarms of refugees fled from the terror, and naturally it wasn't long before they found out
where Hansi and Bess were staying. The young couple were supposed to be rich, and,
compared to the status of most Communists, they were. They could hardly say no to anybody—
for what did the word "comrade" mean if not to open your heart and your purse in a time of
agony such as this? Papa would send money; they didn't tell him what it was for—since it was
to be assumed that letters both going and coming were liable to be opened; but Papa could
guess, and no price was too high to keep his darlings from coming back into danger.
But he couldn't send enough; not the purse of Fortunatus, not the touch of Midas, would
suffice for the needs of all the Hitler victims, from this time on for years beyond any man's
guessing. Either you must have the hide of a rhinoceros, or you would have heartache for your
portion. Fate would devise new ways to make you suffer—every day, every hour, if you would
permit it. The most pitiful victims, the most tragic stories: people who had been tortured until
they were physical and mental wrecks; people whose husbands or wives, sweethearts,
children, parents, or what not, were being tortured, or might be tomorrow. People who had
fled, leaving everything, and had not the price of a meal; people begging for railroad fare to
bring this or that imperiled person out of the clutches of the fiends.
Hansi and Bess were having their own meals, with one of Leese's relatives to work for them, and
presently this girl began to report that they weren't having enough to eat; they had given their
last franc to some hungry comrade, and were even taking out of the house food which they had
obtained on credit. Beauty would invite them over to a meal, and they would come; because,
after all, you can't play music if you don't eat, and it wouldn't do for Hansi to faint in the
middle of concerts which they were giving for the benefit of refugees. Beauty broke down and
wept, and Bess wept, and they had a grand emotional spree; but there wasn't a word they could
say to each other, literally not a word, without getting into an argument.
Beauty wanted to say: "My God, girl, don't you know about Europe? I've lived here more
years than I like to tell, and I can't remember the time when there weren't people fleeing from
oppression somewhere. Even before the war, it was revolutionists from Russia, and Jews, and
people from the Balkans, and from Spain, and from Armenia—I forget most of the places. Do you
think you can solve all the problems of the world?"
Bess wanted to reply: "It is your bourgeois mind." But you can't say that to your hostess, so
she would content herself with the statement: "These are my comrades and this is my cause."
II
Lanny and Irma went back to Paris, and it was the same there. The refugees had Lanny's
address—the first arrivals got it from Uncle Jesse, and the rest from one another. It was an
