She wanted to speak, but couldn’t. She looked for her handkerchief…

The man with the receding hairline leaned back. He let out a long, soft whistle. “I tell her she’s not supposed to blab. I’m afraid she already has. Look at her.”

The cavalier at Trudel’s side retorted quickly, “Not possible. Trudel is a good girl. Tell them you haven’t blabbed, Trudel!” And he squeezed her hand encouragingly. The Babyface directed his round, very blue eyes expressionlessly at the girl. The tall man with the receding hairline smiled contemptuously. He put his cigarette in the ashtray and said mockingly, “Well, Fräulein?”

Trudel had got herself under control, and bravely she whispered, “He’s right. I talked out of turn. My father-in-law brought me news of my Otto’s death. That somehow knocked me off balance. I told him I was in a cell.”

“Did you name names?” No one would have guessed that the Babyface could ask questions so sharply.

“Of course not. That’s all I said, too. And my father-in-law is an old workingman, he’ll never say a word.”

“Your father-in-law’s the next chapter, you’re the first! You say you didn’t give any names…”

“I’ll thank you for believing me, Grigoleit! I’m not lying. I’m freely confessing.”

“You just used a name again, Fräulein Baumann!”

The Babyface said, “Don’t you see it’s completely immaterial whether she named a name or not? She said she was involved in a cell, and that means she’s blabbed, and will blab again. If the men in black lay hands on her, knock her about a bit, she’ll talk, never mind how much or how little she’s said so far.”

“I will never talk to them, even if I have to die!” cried Trudel with flaming cheeks.

“Pah!” said the balding man. “Dying’s the easy bit, Fräulein Baumann, sometimes they do rather unpleasant things to you before that!”

“You’re unkind,” the girl said. “Yes, I’ve done something wrong, but…”

“I agree,” said the fellow on the sofa next to her. “We’ll go and see her father-in-law, and if he’s a reliable sort…”

“Under the torturer’s hand there are no reliable sorts,” said Grigoleit.

“Trudel,” said the Babyface with a gentle smile, “Trudel, you just told us you haven’t told anyone any names?”

“And that’s the truth, I haven’t!”

“And you claimed you would rather die than give us away?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” she exclaimed passionately.

“Well then, Trudel” said the Babyface, and smiled charmingly, “what if you were to die tonight, before you blabbed any more? That would give us a certain measure of security, and save us a lot of trouble…”

A deathly hush descended on the four of them. The girl went white. The boy next to her said “No,” and laid his hand over hers. But then he took it away again.

The dancers returned to their various tables and for a while made it impossible to continue the conversation.

The balding man lit another cigarette, and the Babyface smiled subtly when he saw how the other’s hands were shaking. Then he said to the dark-haired boy next to the pale, silent girl. “You say no? But why do you say no? It’s an almost entirely satisfactory solution to the problem, and as I understand it, was suggested by your neighbour herself.”

“It’s not a satisfactory solution,” said the dark-haired boy slowly. “You’ll remember that sentence when the People’s Court has you and me and her…”

“Quiet!” said the Babyface. “Go away and dance for a few minutes. It seems like a nice tune.