In the middle of the evening the mother called: “Come at once, please.” He went, and found her in a state of tension. Kurt had come, and now had gone to interview someone who had authority over him, to get permission to leave. He had said no more, except that he was sure he could get a passport into Spain. “He says he has friends there,” Beauty explained.
Lanny hadn't thought of that. Of course the Germans would be working through Spain as well as through Switzerland, and if they could buy or manufacture passports in one country, they could do it in another.
Beauty was to meet Kurt at an agreed place on the street. “In one hour,” she said. “But let's get out of here at once.”
Her bags were packed and ready. Lanny paid the hotel bill, explaining that his mother had been called back to her home on the Riviera. The car had been phoned for and was at the door; the bellboys stowed the luggage, and Lanny tipped them generously. The couple stepped in, the car rolled away — and Beauty put her face into her hands and burst into sobbing. So much she had feared in that well-appointed family hotel;, and nothing of it had happened!
They drove slowly about the boulevards, still unlighted, as in war days. After a while Beauty told him to drive to the spot where Kurt was supposed to come. “Draw up to the curb,” she requested, and when he did so, she said: “Please go quickly.”
“I don't like to leave you here,” he objected.
“I'll lock the car. And I have a gun.”
“I wanted to wait and see you off.”
“Don't you understand, Lanny? The police may be following Kurt! They would want to get his associates, too.”
He had to admit that this was reasonable. Since she didn't know how to drive, he asked: “What'll you do if he doesn't show up?”