“He’s been moved to another part of the building. That woman arranged it.”
“Why?”
He looked at me in a silence of shame, then he forced himself to speak.
“So I could carry out my orders”
“Orders? Not—not German orders?”
He nodded stolidly.
“I’m under her orders—it’s the same thing. I can’t help it. I can’t stand against her.”
“Then she is the countess?”
He bowed his head slowly.
“Yes. I meant to play fair. I would have played fair, but—the Germans put this woman on our trail when we left Chicago—they mistrusted something and—” with a gesture of despair, “she found me in Pittsburg—she—she’s got me. I don’t care for anything in the world but that woman.”