Marion’s daughter was a simpleton anyway, just like her idiot of a father! True, Gustav remained smitten with her, but she had no doubt the wiles of another could turn his head soon enough. And she, for one, was not about to put up with Marion any longer.

Her husband, however, had insisted that the Dortmanns be on hand.

“As little as I am fond of Heinrich,” Schmundt had said, “it would not look right.”

“I tell you, I can’t tolerate the lot of them!” said Ingrid peevishly. “I don’t know what I ever saw in Marion!”

“Not to worry, my dear. You and Gustav will be the center of attention. It will be the perfect opportunity to show that vixen of Heinrich’s her folly for snubbing you.”

“I don’t see why we have to invite them, Ernst.”

“It would not look right. After all, Otto will be coming.”

“And his daughter?”

“I made sure of that.”

His wife smiled.

“Are you thinking that perhaps we had our eyes on the wrong Dortmann all this time?” asked the count.

“The idea had occured to me. But I still don’t see why the baron and Marion have to come. I tell you, I hate them all.”

“Ingrid, dear, they must be in attendance. I have been instructed to make sure they are present.”

Her husband had said no more, and from his tone Ingrid knew there was nothing more to be said.

She turned her head a third of the way to the left, then in the opposite direction, checking her hair from both sides, making sure it was just right.

If only I can keep all the talk from deteriorating to politics, she thought to herself. Back in the twenties, when everything was so gay, parties and balls were fun and festive. Now everything was world events and politics and armies and Jews and military talk. And they were even told whom they must invite!

She was sick of it! She would make this a day to remember. Marion would think better of her and her son after this. The Schmundt villa would be the talk of Berlin and the highlight of the social season!

Outside in the Grand Hall, while his wife completed her coiffure, Count Ernst von Schmundt busily welcomed his Nazi colleagues from Berlin. Already the drinks had begun to flow and circles of conversation busily discussed everything from the summer’s heat in Berlin to the recently concluded Moscow Pact of the previous week.