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the wall. Only the terrier, in the cage beneath Spaetzle’s, is still alive. Its paws twitch; one brown eye rolls piteously in Anna’s direction as it whines.
    Anna takes a few steps toward it. Something crunches under her heel. She looks down, grimacing: Max’s spectacles.
    A high, outraged little note escapes Anna’s windpipe. She scoops up the glasses and slides them into her pocket. Then she bends and vomits in the hay. When nothing is left in her stomach, she crosses the shed. She pauses in front of Spaetzle’s remains, wishing she could feel something about the death of her father’s dog. But as she can’t, she lifts the terrier from its cage.
    The animal is clearly dying, and Anna knows she should put it out of its misery with a swift twist of the neck or blow to the head. Instead she sinks to the ground cradling it, stroking the matted fur. So Max, for whatever reason, has been arrested. God in heaven, what if it is Anna’s fault? Anna presses a bloody fist to her mouth, her eyes stinging with tears. What if, despite her caution, somebody has seen and reported the Aryan girl visiting the Jewish physician’s house? But no; the SS would not be ransacking the entire Quarter if this were the case. Regardless, Anna must help him. What can be done for Jews who have been taken into protective custody? If only Anna had paid more attention to the rumors whispered around her during her daily errands. It is like trying to recall voices overheard from another room while one is dozing. Random beatings of Jews, roundups, detainments, deportations. The homes of Aryans who question the treatment of their Jewish neighbors suddenly empty and remaining so night and day, mail accumulating in their boxes, milk souring on the doorsteps.
    But Anna remembers hearing that the SS can be bribed, particularly if the supplicant is pretty and desperate enough. She has used her looks for lesser things. And the safe in Gerhard’s study surely contains something of value. Anna need only think of a way to get her father out of the house.
    She sets the terrier’s body down, its eyes having long since filmed over. Then, after cleaning her sticky hands as best she can with straw, Anna leaves through Max’s back garden so as not to be seen. The SS may still be abroad, and the last thing Anna needs is to be detained for questioning as to why she is in this district. The premature dusk is smoky and raw, its uniform grayness an ally to Anna in her dark Zellwolle coat. She races through the alleys of the forsaken Jewish Quarter, skirting tricycles and ducking lines of washing, all the while clutching the spectacles in her pocket.

4
    THAT EVENING, GERHARD IS FORCED TO AMEND HIS DIN-ner plans. He telephones his important new acquaintances and arranges to meet them at a restaurant. After all, Anna hears him explaining into the receiver, he doesn’t want them to catch his daughter’s influenza. Anna has told him that it is rampant in Weimar just now, the streets a symphony of sneezes, the shops like TB wards. Gerhard’s companions must be pleased with his concern for their health, for Anna hears him humming as he dresses and descends the stairs. The cloying fragrance of his Köl-nischwasser, of which he has used a great deal, lingers long after his car disappears from the drive.
    Some time later, Anna creeps down to the kitchen. Breaking into her father’s safe has been useless, as the strongbox contains only Gerhard’s traveling papers and a gold pocketwatch that no longer tells time. Anna sits dully in a chair, forcing herself to nibble a wedge of cheddar while she considers alternate plans. None comes to mind. Perhaps the watch would be worth something on the black market, but Anna has no idea who might be involved with this risky venture nor how to find out. In despair she abandons the cheese on the table.
    She is attempting an apple next when she hears a rap on the window near the maid’s entrance. She freezes with her teeth half-sunk into