"Now tell me what you wish to say ..." she began in German as the servant left the room, but almost as soon as he had gone she was on her feet, clasping my hands.
"Francis!" she whispered in English in a great sob, "oh, Francis! what have they done to you to make you look like that?"
I gripped her wrist tightly.
"Frau Gräfin," I said in German, still in that hideous patois, "you must be calm." And I whispered in English in her ear:
"Monica, be brave! And talk German whatever you do."
She regained her self-possession at once.
"I understand," she answered, sitting down at her desk again; "it is more prudent."
And for the rest of the time we spoke in German.
"Desmond?" I asked.
"Locked up in Grundt's bedroom," she replied. "I met them pushing him along the corridor—it was horrible! Grundt won't let him out of his sight. Oh, it was madness to have come. If only I could have warned you!"