176
Not long after the Anschluss, Hitler had declared his
intention to “free the Sudeten Germans” from Czechoslovak
“oppression.” The Nazis themselves had probably touched
off the violent riots of the past few days. Rudolf was
convinced that an invasion was imminent and that neither
Daladier nor Chamberlain would raise a finger to stop it.
The Munich Agreement, negotiated only a week after our
wedding, would prove him right. Kurt, oblivious of this
kind of tension, rose to offer a toast of his own: “To Adele,
my beloved wife! To our honeymoon in the United States!”
I gave him my most radiant smile. As far as he was
concerned, Princeton would soon send funds for a second
ticket, despite the abruptness of our marriage. I thought it
unlikely. I protected his unconcern, since all he wanted was
peace.
I sipped my broth, stifling a wave of nausea. Whenever my
mother, who had noticed my malaise, looked at me
quizzically, I would pat my stomach distractedly. She didn’t
catch on. Kurt must have ascribed my unaccustomed lack
of appetite and silence to my emotions. He wouldn’t have
noticed if Hitler had been dancing on the wedding table.
Having eaten our frugal meal, we left the Rathauskeller for
a walk under a light rain. As we passed the little wooden
stands where they sold grilled bratwurst, my father
grumbled inopportunely, “If money was so tight, we could