“How could I?”...
“You were invited to my sister’s.”
“Oh—yes.”
“Why weren’t you there?”
“Because I can’t be with you—like that—with others around. No, I just can’t.” She shivered. “Where are we now?” she asked, after a moment.
They were passing under the railroad bridge at the entrance to the Reichsstrasse.
“On the way to the Danube,” replied Franz. “We’re driving toward the Reichs Bridge. We’ll certainly not meet any of our friends here,” he added, with a touch of mockery.
“The carriage jolts dreadfully.”
“We’re on cobblestones again.”
“But he drives so crooked.”