draw new conclusions. The one thing I can't do, it seems to me, is to leave Freddi to his fate.
It's not merely that he's a friend; he's a pupil, in a way. I helped to teach him what he believes;
I sent him literature, I showed him what to do, and he did it. So I have a double obligation."
"You have an obligation to your wife and daughter, also."
"Of course, and if they were in trouble, they would come first. But my daughter is getting
along all right, and as for my wife, I'm hoping she will see it as I do."
"Do you want me to come with you again?"
"Of course I want you; but I'm trying to be fair, and not put pressure upon you. I want you
to do what seems right to you."
Irma was fond enough of having her own way, but wasn't entirely reconciled to Lanny's
willingness to give it to her. Somehow it bore too close a resemblance to indifference. "A
woman wants to be wanted," she would say.
"Don't be silly, darling," he pleaded. "Of course I want your help. I might need you badly
some time. But ought I drag you there against your will, and feeling that you're being imposed
on?"
"It's a horrid bore for me to be in a country where I don't understand the language."
"Well, why not learn it? If you and I would agree not to speak anything but German to each
other, you'd be chattering away in a week or two."
"Is that what I do in English, Lanny?" He hastened to embrace her, and smooth her ruffled
feelings. That was the way they settled their arguments; they were still very much in love, and
when he couldn't bring himself to think as she did, the least he could do was to cover her
with kisses and tell her that she was the dearest woman in the world.
The upshot of the discussion was that she would go with him again, but she had a right to
know what he was going to do before he started doing it. "Of course, darling," he replied.
"How else could I have your help?"
"I mean, if it's something I don't approve of, I have a right to say so, and to refuse to go
through with it."
He said again: "Haven't you always had that right in our marriage?"
VI
Johannes had established himself in New York, where he was running errands for Robbie,
and incidentally trying to "pick up a little business," something he would never fail to do
while he lived. Lanny phoned to his father, who motored in, and the four had a long conference
in Johannes's hotel room. They threshed out every aspect of the problem and agreed upon a code
for communicating with one another. They agreed with Lanny that if Freddi was a prisoner of
the government, the Minister-Präsident of Prussia knew it, and there could be no gain in
approaching him, unless it was to be another money hold-up. Said Johannes: "He is doubtless
informed as to how much money Irma has."
Perhaps it was up to Irma to say: "I would gladly pay it all." But she didn't.
Instead, Robbie remarked to his son: "If you let anybody connected with the government
know that you are there on account of Freddi, they will almost certainly have you watched,
and be prepared to block you, and make trouble for anyone who helps you."
"I have a business," replied Lanny. "My idea is to work at it seriously and use it as a cover. I'll
cable Zoltan and find out if he'd be interested to give a Detaze show in Berlin this autumn.
That would make a lot of publicity, and enable me to meet people; also it would tip off
Freddi's friends as to where and how to get in touch with me. All this will take time, but it's
the only way I can think of to work in Hitler Germany."
This was a promising idea, and it pleased Irma, because it was respectable. She had had a very
good time at the London showing of Marcel's paintings. It was associated in her mind with
romantic events; getting married in a hurry and keeping the secret from her friends—she had felt
quite delightfully wicked, because nobody could be sure whether they were really married or
not. Also the New York show had been fun—even though the Wall Street panic had punctured
it like a balloon.
Lanny said that before sailing they should take some time and drum up business; if he had
American dollars to pay out for German art treasures, the most fanatical Nazi could find no
fault with him. Irma had so far looked upon the picture business as if it were the vending of
peanuts from a pushcart; but now it became part of a melodrama—as if she were dressing up
as the peanut vender's wife! But without really sacrificing her social prestige; for the richest
and most fastidious persons wouldn't suspect that the daughter of J. Paramount Barnes was
peddling pictures for the money. It would be for love of
thing.
When Lanny telegraphed some client that he and his wife were about to leave for Germany
and would like to motor out and discuss the client's tastes and wishes, the least the person
could do was to invite them to tea, and often it would be to spend the night in some showplace
at Bar Harbor or Newport, in the Berkshires or up the Hudson.
