“Oh,” the other said eagerly, and it was clear that he, who had disclosed so much, was now also asking for some show of trust. “Surely we could help each other out somehow. You obviously have money, and I have a way out, but not the money it requires. We could complement each other.”

“But if, as you say, your man robs people at the border, I don’t find the prospect very enticing.”

“So is it a lot of money you’re carrying around?”

“No, definitely not.”

“I’ve told you everything. But you’re not telling me anything! Don’t you trust me?”

“I do, but as you rightly pointed out earlier: we don’t know each other, and it’s also debatable if we’d be of any benefit to each other even if we did.”

“My name is Lilienfeld, Robert Lilienfeld.”

“Silbermann.”

“So, Herr Silbermann,” said Lilienfeld, now grown bolder. “I trust you, even if just because I very much need you. Listen: we could get off together in Dortmund and look up the man together. I would introduce you, and in exchange you would pay my way.”

“We could do that. And I’m happy to give you the money. But you’ll have to pay him yourself.”

“Agreed.”

“And assuming a person had a little more money that he needed to have sent on very quickly, do you also know how that can be arranged?”

“You’re not allowed to take anything,” Lilienfeld insisted. “In no case are you permitted to have more than ten marks on you. Otherwise if we get caught we might be accused of smuggling currency. Besides, I already told you that you have to expect the man to pat you down at the border. If you’re lucky, all he’ll do is take your money.”

“You don’t know any other way to…?”

“I have no idea! Just don’t tell the man that you have money, and under no circumstances should you hide the money on your person. Or any valuables!”

“But…”

“We simply have to be glad if we manage to make it across with our bare lives.”

“Even out of the country you need more than a bare life to survive. You need money! Or do you think they feed Jews there for free?”

“I’ll find some work,” Lilienfeld assured him hopefully.

“As far as I know, immigrants aren’t allowed to work without a special permit, and by the time you get one of those you’ll have long died of starvation.”

“That remains to be seen!”

“No,” said Silbermann emphatically. “For me it’s out of the question.”

Lilienfeld jumped up. “And how am I supposed to pay the man?” he asked, agitated. “I’m short two hundred marks. My life depends on two hundred marks! If I’d only traveled third class…”

“Calm down.” Silbermann interrupted him. “You’ll get your two hundred marks! And in exchange you’ll give me the address of the man. I may come back to the idea.”