"Sit down over there, on the sofa!" Frau Demant ordered. Carl Joseph sat back down. The comfortable cushions slid from all sides, from the back, from the corners, slyly and cautiously, toward the lieutenant. He felt it was dangerous sitting here and he shifted resolutely toward the edge, placing his hands on the hilt of the upright saber as he saw Frau Eva coming over. She looked like the dangerous commander of all the pillows and cushions. On the wall to the right of the sofa hung the picture of his dead friend. Frau Eva sat down. A small soft pillow lay in between them. Trotta did not stir. As always when he could see no way out of the countless agonising predicaments he stumbled into, he imagined himself able to leave. real editor best profile tools real editor best profile tools
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