Ritter drove on, following the south
bank of the Landwehr Canal. Carla looked at the barges, their loads
of coal topped with snow like mountains. She felt a sense of
disappointment. She had contrived to spend longer with Werner, by
hinting that she wanted a lift, then she had wasted the time talking
about ice hockey.
What would she have liked to have
talked to him about? She did not know.
Herr Franck said to Mother: 'I read
your column in The Democrat'.
'I hope you enjoyed
it'
'I was sorry to see
you writing disrespectfully about our chancellor.'
'Do you think
journalists should write respectfully about politicians? Mother
replied cheerfully. 'That's radical. The Nazi press would have to be
polite about my husband! They wouldn't like that.'
'Not all the
politicians, obviously.' Franck said irritably.
They crossed the
teeming junction pf Postdammer Platz. Cars and trams vied with
horse-drawn carts and pedestrians in a chaotic melee.
From the book
“Winter of the world” by Ken Follet
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