“That I can take no chances. He will be shot tomorrow.”
“O God! He is loyal to Germany. I swear it.” Her utterance was choked. Her breath came with difficulty. The room darkened suddenly and she seemed about to swoon. She dropped to her knees beside the armchair, clinging to it, trying to speak, but no words would come. She was aware of his hawk-like face bending over her as though in the act of striking its prey and she heard his voice at her ear.
“There is one chance to save him.”
She reached his hand and clung to it.
“A chance—what—”
“Tell me the truth,” he said sternly.
“I—I have told you the truth. He is innocent.”
He loosened her fingers and stood away.
“Quatsch!” he muttered, leaning forward. “The truth, girl!”
“I—I——”