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acclaimed actress at the height of her career, she was the darling of the theatre-going public of Berlin. Petite of frame but larger than life, she wore flowing gowns and expansive millinery creations and waved her arms about a lot while she spoke in loud, almost masculine tones. Among her friends she numbered all the major actors and actresses of the day as well as every theatre director, producer and playwright in Germany. The up and coming young writer, Berthold Brecht was a particular favorite of hers, as was Greta’s husband, Adam and Adam’s friends, the German-American couple, Arvid and Mildred Harnack.
    The study was Libertas’s favorite room. Filled with period furniture, its walls were lined on three sides by bookcases crammed with books.
    “Hello, Greta.” Hidden behind the high back of a leather armchair, Greta discovered Mildred Harnack seated by the fireplace. Greta hadn’t seen Mildred for several months. The last definite news she’d had about her was that she was suffering with ‘her nerves’ and had spent some time in a sanatorium in Maryland. Her husband, Arvid, never gave anything away about her health.
    Of the three of them, Mildred was the prettiest, with well-defined features and an engaging smile. Greta was under no illusion about her own looks – her lank hair and sharp nose. Libertas’s favorite look was a juvenile pose that suited her miniature, doll-like figure. Greta knew she was the brightest of the three. She was certainly the most qualified, with degrees from German and American colleges. Mildred was an academic writer, very much minor league. Her most recent attempts to acquire grants from various American foundations had all been turned down. Libertas was from an aristocratic Prussian family and had no need of academic qualifications. Her mental powers were something of an unknown quantity.
    Mildred shook Greta’s hand warmly. They exchanged a few pleasantries, and Greta took a matching high-backed armchair on the opposite side of the fireplace. Libertas pulled up a Queen Anne chair and sat between them. Greta offered to change places, but Libertas dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand.
    “I’ve asked you both here to discuss the case of Anna Weber and Max-Christian Noack. I’ve explained to Mildred, Greta, why you passed their papers to me.
    Greta interrupted Libertas’s flow. “And have you been able to do anything for them?”
    “I’ll come to that later. I thought we should discuss the prospect of Max-Christian’s making a contribution to our husbands’ activities. The young man is employed with the RAD in some capacity or other. As I understand it, the questions are whether he could provide intelligence of any real value to the Resistance movement, and if so, which of our networks should attempt to recruit him.”
    Mildred added, “And would he be amenable to our advances.” 
    Greta ground her teeth. Libertas was holding court as only Libertas could, and Mildred was playing her game. These were questions that would be considered and decided by the men in their lives. The secrecy with which Arvid ran his network was legendary. He would be unlikely to welcome any new source. The addition of Madam Krauss had been a major surprise. On the other hand, Libertas’s husband, Harro Schulze-Boysen, was totally open to any and all advances if they offered new intelligence sources. Harro held a high position in the Air Ministry. Of all the members of the Resistance, he was the best placed to gather valuable intelligence. But Arvid considered Harro’s behavior the height of indiscretion and kept as much distance as he could between the two networks.
    Greta turned her face to the fire to hide her contempt for Libertas’s pretentiousness. “I’m pretty sure Adam won’t be interested.”
    Mildred agreed. “Arvid won’t jeopardize his operation for a young man from the labor ministry. I think I can speak for Arvid.”
    “Well, I know Harro will jump at the