"Yes, Mrs. Schumann, I'm telling you the truth."

"And now I did this to you. Jimmy, I'm so sorry. If I had known . . ."

"Mrs. Schumann, it takes two to tango, as they say in Buenos Aires, where, putting your credulity to the test once again, I was three days before I got married."

"You have every reason to be disgusted with me, but could you bring yourself to call me Rachel and not Mrs. Schumann?"

He looked at her and found himself looking into her sad eyes.

"Sure, Rachel, why not?"

"Jimmy, I am so very sorry."

"Rachel, if you're on a guilt trip, don't be. You may have noticed I was an enthusiastic partic.i.p.ant in what just happened."

She smiled.

"I noticed. I feel a little guilty about . . . not knowing what happened to you. But not about what I did. Understand?"

"No."

"Are you interested?" she said, then before he could reply added: "I think I should tell you."

He still didn't reply.

"Despite what it looks like, I don't jump into bed with every good-looking young officer I meet."

His face showed his disbelief.

"Or touch them under the table," she went on. "Testing your credulity, this is the first time I've ever been unfaithful to my husband."

"Is that so?"

"We grew up together. We got married when Tony graduated from college. I was nineteen. He went into the Signal Corps. His degree's in electrical engineering. We had our two children, Anton Junior, who's now fourteen, and Sarah, who's now twelve, when we were stationed at Fort Monmouth-"

"Rachel," he interrupted, "you don't have to do-"

She silenced him by putting her finger to her lips.

"It's important to me that you hear this. Tony was first a student and then an instructor at Monmouth. Then he went into the Army Security Agency, and we moved to Vint Hill Farms Station-do you know about Vint Hill, the ASA?"

Cronley nodded.

"And then the war came along, and somehow Tony moved into the inspector general business, first with ASA and then with the CIC. I guess you know about Camp Holabird? In Baltimore?"

He nodded again.

"We went there, and we had just found an apartment when Tony was a.s.signed to Eisenhower's Advance Party when Ike was sent to London. He made major, and then they sent him back to Washington, where he made lieutenant colonel. And then when the war was nearly over they sent him back here. He became involved in collecting evidence to be used against the n.a.z.is when they were to be tried. I think his seeing what they did to the Jews was what did it."

"Did what?"

"Make him decide to a.s.sert his Jewish masculine superiority by . . . stupping it to every German shiksa he can."

"I don't know what that means. Stupped? Shiksa?"

"What it means is that when the kids and I got over here six weeks ago, I found out that Tony . . ."

She stopped, chuckled, then ran her fingers over his face tenderly. "'Stupping,' my goy lover, is Yiddish for what you just did to me. Goy means 'gentile man.' And shiksa is Yiddish for 'gentile girl.'"

"How did you find out about your husband?"

"It doesn't matter. I found out."

"I'm sorry, Rachel."

She ran her fingers over his face again.

"So, what were my options? If I left him, the kids would have learned that not only is their father a sonofab.i.t.c.h stupping it to all the shiksas he can, but that he prefers them to me. And what would I do? I've been an officer's wife since I was a kid, I don't know how I would make a living."

She paused, then went on: "So, what did I do? I did what a lot of women here do-Tony's not the only officer who has found that fruleins, or for that matter, die Frauen, are more interesting in bed than their wives. I started to drink, is what I did, Jimmy.

"And then I began to have this fantasy. I would pay the sonofab.i.t.c.h back. What's sauce for the goose, et cetera. I would find a lover, preferably a goy. That would show him."

"Christ, you're not going to tell him about us?"

She laughed and smiled.

"No, Jimmy, I'm not going to tell him about us. If I did, my children would learn that their mother's no better than their father. Or as bad as their father. It would be enough, I thought, that I would know I had paid him back.

"But the fantasy went nowhere. I didn't come across anyone that I wanted to take to bed. I began to understand that my fantasy was just that-fantasy.

"And then I ran into a young goy officer my husband really hates. More importantly, he had the saddest eyes I'd ever seen. Perfect, I thought. Except you showed no interest in me whatever. So I took another sip of my martini of liquid encouragement and . . . let you know I was interested. You still didn't show any interest, but-and this really came as a surprise-what I had done to you really excited me.

"I waited until Colonel Mattingly had driven away and then I came knocking at your door. And here we are."

When he didn't reply, she said, "No comment?"

He rolled on his side and looked at her.

"I'm glad you didn't give up, Rachel."

"I hope you're just not saying that."

He put his hand to her breast. She laid her fingers on top of his hand. He felt her nipple stiffen.

"Jimmy, are you feeling guilty about betraying the memory of your late wife?"

"She's dead, Rachel . . ."

"I feel so sorry for you."

". . . and I'm alive."

He took his hand from her breast, caught hers, and guided it to his member. She closed her fingers around it and it sprang almost instantly to life.

"Oh, G.o.d!" she said.

And then he rolled on top of her.

[ EIGHT ].

1430 30 October 1945 "You look lost in thought," Jimmy said to Rachel, who was standing before the mirror in the bath and combing her hair.

She turned from the mirror. She had showered and wrapped a towel around her waist, leaving her b.r.e.a.s.t.s uncovered.

"You're not supposed to be looking," she said, but didn't seem offended. She turned back to the mirror and resumed running the comb through her hair.

"I've got a lot to think about," Rachel said.

"Like what?"

"Like-not that it matters-I'm too old for you. Like I really have to keep Tony from finding out and, for different reasons, my kids from even suspecting."

"For different reasons?"

"Because Tony really hates you. My kids, thank G.o.d, don't even know you exist."

"Your husband hates me because of what I did to his car?"

"Because he suspects you're involved in getting n.a.z.is out of Germany to Argentina, and he can't do anything about it."

After a moment, Jimmy said, "And the different reasons for the kids?"

"No mother wants to have to come off the pedestal of virtue her kids have put her on."

"Then we'll just have to make sure your kids don't find out."

"The only way we could do that for sure would be for me to get dressed, walk out of here, and never see you again."

"Is that what you want to do?"

"No. But that's moot. Eventually, we're going to run into each other again. We're just going to have to be very careful."

"Can I interpret that to mean . . ."

"Do I want to be with you again? Of course I do. I know I should be overwhelmed with remorse right now, but the truth is I like standing here combing my hair while you stare hungrily at my b.r.e.a.s.t.s."

"Wow!"

"But we're going to have to be very careful and pray we don't get caught. And I mean that about praying. I don't want my kids to get hurt."

"Understood."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Involved in sneaking n.a.z.is out of Germany to Argentina?"

"Jesus, Rachel!"

"I thought so. Tony is ordinarily very good at what he does, and so far as that business is concerned, he's pa.s.sionate. I guess he feels that if he can stop it, that will be even better for his Jewish masculine ego than . . ."

"Stupping the shiksas?"

She laughed.

"If you suddenly start spouting Yiddish, people will wonder who's teaching you."

"Then I will spout it only to you, my shiksa."

She laughed and turned to him.

"I'm not your shiksa, mein Trottel goy. I'm your khaverte."

"Is that what you think, Rachel, that I'm a fool of a Christian?"

"That's right, you do speak German, don't you? And Yiddish is really b.a.s.t.a.r.d German."

"My mother is a Strasburgerin. I got my German from her."

"I was just about to say, 'That was said lovingly,' but we have to be careful about using that word, don't we? Or even thinking about it?"

"Can you have a lover, be lovers, without love?"

"We're going to have to try to, aren't we? Or at least without saying it, or even thinking it?"

When he didn't reply, Rachel said, "Oh, my G.o.d, Jimmy. You're not thinking that what happened between us . . . That was l.u.s.t, Jimmy. l.u.s.t. Not love."

He smiled.