“I am sixteen years old and I am English, although Nanny says I am growing more German every day. We come each summer to the house Uncle Leader has built especially for his friends. “If you are naughty,” Nanny says, “Uncle Leader won’t invite you any more. Putzi will not be your friend, there will be no dancing after tea in the barn.” So I must be good, I must pretend that I am happy in this house in the mountains where I want to run away and die. Uncle Leader’s big friend is a woman who talks a...bout him all the time. “Isn’t the Führer wonderful,” she says and when she sees me she says it in a loud whispery voice—“hasn’t he marvellous eyes? Marvellous cruel eyes… but he’s not cruel, is he Clemmie? He wants to look after you, just like Nanny does… he loves us all, Clemmie, and you’re going to be good while we play our little game, aren’t you my armes kind.” What I hate most of all is the game. They played it last year at Berchtesgaden and I was told to stand in a corner and not look round until Putzi called out to me to move.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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