Upton Sinclair - Dragons’s teeth

They argued for a while, but it didn’t do any good; they had said it before, many times, and neither had changed much. In the course of four years Irma had listened attentively while her husband debated with many sorts of persons, and unless they were Communists she had nearly always found herself in agreement with the other persons. It was as if the ghost of J. Paramount Barnes were standing by her side telling her what to think. Saying: "I labored hard, and it was not for nothing. I gave you a pleasant position, and surely you don’t wish to throw it away!" The ghost never said, in so many words: "What would you be without your money?" It said: "Things aren’t so bad as the calamity-howlers say; and anyhow, there are better remedies." When Lanny, vastly irritated, would ask: "What are the remedies?" the ghost of the utilities king would fall silent, and Irma would become vague, and talk about such things as time, education, and spiritual enlightenment.

"It’s no good going on with this, dear," said the husband. "The question is, what are we going to do about Freddi?"

"If you would only tell me any definite thing that we can do!"

"But that isn’t possible, dear. I have to go there and try this and that, look for new facts and draw new conclusions. The one thing I can’t do, it seems to me, is to leave Freddi to his fate. It’s not merely that he’s a friend; he’s a pupil, in a way. I helped to teach him what he believes; I sent him literature, I showed him what to do, and he did it. So I have a double obligation."

"You have an obligation to your wife and daughter, also."

"Of course, and if they were in trouble, they would come first. But my daughter is getting along all right, and as for my wife, I’m hoping she will see it as I do."

"Do you want me to come with you again?"

"Of course I want you; but I’m trying to be fair, and not put pressure upon you. I want you to do what seems right to you."

Irma was fond enough of having her own way, but wasn’t entirely reconciled to Lanny’s willingness to give it to her. Somehow it bore too close a resemblance to indifference. "A woman wants to be wanted," she would say.

"Don’t be silly, darling," he pleaded. "Of course I want your help. I might need you badly some time. But ought I drag you there against your will, and feeling that you’re being imposed on?"

"It’s a horrid bore for me to be in a country where I don’t understand the language."

"Well, why not learn it? If you and I would agree not to speak anything but German to each other, you’d be chattering away in a week or two."

"Is that what I do in English, Lanny?" He hastened to embrace her, and smooth her ruffled feelings. That was the way they settled their arguments; they were still very much in love, and when he couldn’t bring himself to think as she did, the least he could do was to cover her with kisses and tell her that she was the dearest woman in the world.

The upshot of the discussion was that she would go with him again, but she had a right to know what he was going to do before he started doing it. "Of course, darling," he replied. "How else could I have your help?"

"I mean, if it’s something I don’t approve of, I have a right to say so, and to refuse to go through with it."

He said again: "Haven’t you always had that right in our marriage?"

Johannes had established himself in New York, where he was running errands for Robbie, and incidentally trying to "pick up a little business," something he would never fail to do while he lived. Lanny phoned to his father, who motored in, and the four had a long conference in Johannes’s hotel room. They threshed out every aspect of the problem and agreed upon a code for communicating with one another. They agreed with Lanny that if Freddi was a prisoner of the government, the Minister-Präsident of Prussia knew it, and there could be no gain in approaching him, unless it was to be another money hold-up. Said Johannes: "He is doubtless informed as to how much money Irma has."

Perhaps it was up to Irma to say: "I would gladly pay it all." But she didn’t.

Instead, Robbie remarked to his son: "If you let anybody connected with the government know that you are there on account of Freddi, they will almost certainly have you watched, and be prepared to block you, and make trouble for anyone who helps you."

"I have a business," replied Lanny. "My idea is to work at it seriously and use it as a cover. I’ll cable Zoltan and find out if he’d be interested to give a Detaze show in Berlin this autumn. That would make a lot of publicity, and enable me to meet people; also it would tip off Freddi’s friends as to where and how to get in touch with me. All this will take time, but it’s the only way I can think of to work in Hitler Germany."

This was a promising idea, and it pleased Irma, because it was respectable. She had had a very good time at the London showing of Marcel’s paintings. It was associated in her mind with romantic events; getting married in a hurry and keeping the secret from her friends—she had felt quite delightfully wicked, because nobody could be sure whether they were really married or not. Also the New York show had been fun—even though the Wall Street panic had punctured it like a balloon.

Lanny said that before sailing they should take some time and drum up business; if he had American dollars to pay out for German art treasures, the most fanatical Nazi could find no fault with him. Irma had so far looked upon the picture business as if it were the vending of peanuts from a pushcart; but now it became part of a melodrama—as if she were dressing up as the peanut vender’s wife! But without really sacrificing her social prestige; for the richest and most fastidious persons wouldn’t suspect that the daughter of J. Paramount Barnes was peddling pictures for the money. It would be for love of les beaux arts, a fine and dignified thing.

When Lanny telegraphed some client that he and his wife were about to leave for Germany and would like to motor out and discuss the client’s tastes and wishes, the least the person could do was to invite them to tea, and often it would be to spend the night in some showplace at Bar Harbor or Newport, in the Berkshires or up the Hudson.

So, when the young couple boarded a steamer for Southampton, they really had an excellent pretext for a sojourn in Naziland. They sailed on a German liner, because Irma had set out to learn the language and wanted opportunities to "chatter." They landed in England because their car had been stored there, and because Lanny wanted a conference with Rick before taking the final plunge. Zoltan was in London, and had answered Lanny’s cable with an enthusiastic assent. He was a shrewd fellow, and knowing about Freddi Robin, had no trouble in guessing what was in their heads; but he was discreet, and said not a word.

Beauty had gone back to Juan, and of course the young couple wanted to see little Frances, and also to talk things over with the Robins and make them acquainted with the code. On the way they stopped to see Emily and get her wise advice. One bright moonlit night they arrived at Bienvenu, amid the powerful scent of orange and lemon blossoms. Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blüht? It seemed to Irma that she wanted nothing ever again but to stay in that heaven-made garden.

For three days she was in ecstasies over their darling little girl, calling Lanny’s attention to every new word she had learned. Lanny, duly responsive, wondered what the little one made of these two mysterious, godlike beings called mother and father, who swooped down into her life at long intervals and then vanished in a roar of motors and clouds of dust. He observed that the child was far more interested in the new playmate whom fate permitted her to have without interruption. Baby Freddi was blooming like a dark velvet rose in the hot sunshine of the Midi, for which he had been destined many centuries ago; fear was being forgotten, along with his father. Irma withheld her thought: "I must get those two apart before they come to the falling-in-love age!"