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Updated: June 20, 2025
She shook her head and slipped the envelope from his weakening fingers. "I know about von Stinnes. Don't be afraid. May I?" He nodded and she began to read: "DEAR ERIK DORN: "I write this at night, and to-morrow I will be ended. You must not misunderstand what I do. It is a business long delayed. But I have made a full confession in writing for the Entente commission ten closely written pages.
So far I've managed to do nothing more than enjoy myself. Profundity is diverting in New York, but a bore in Berlin. There's too much of it. Good God, man, there are times when I feel that even the buildings of the city are wrapped in thought." Von Stinnes gestured with an almost English awkwardness. His English contained a slight French accent. His words, amused, careless, carried decision.
Moving swiftly through the streets, Dorn hurried to the seat of the new government the Wittelbacher Palais. Von Stinnes was waiting there. He had been delayed in joining the Baron by the sudden upheaval about the hotel. The wave had passed. Almost safe now to skirt the scene of battle and make a try for the Palais.
A man, walking unsteadily across the empty café, stopped in front of the booth. "I've been looking for you," he said. "You don't remember me, eh?" Dorn looked up. An American uniform. An excited face. "My name's Hazlitt. Come out here." Von Stinnes leveled his monocle witheringly upon the interloper and murmured an aside, "He's drunk...." Dorn stood up. "Yes, I remember you now," he said.
"If one million marks will cause a revolution, I'll take them to Munich myself," he answered. "I'm sick of Berlin. I need a revolution to divert me." "I fear I am in the way," von Stinnes interrupted. He arose with formality. "Mathilde would like to unburden herself to you, Dorn.
Von Stinnes glared through his monocle and answered in German, "What is the matter with you? Are you crazy? I am Baron von Stinnes. My friend is a member of the American Commission." Dorn extracted a bit of stamped paper his special credentials from the German Foreign Office. The soldier glanced at it without troubling to read.... "Sehr gut, mein Herrschaften," he mumbled.
They have more funds than we. Oh, we need more." "Who will buy them back?" "The bourgeoise. They have more money than we. And without the garrisons we are lost." She wrung her hands. Dorn struggled to become properly serious. "There, it may come out very fine," he murmured. "Anyway, von Stinnes is making a speech. It should help." "Stinnes...." "Yes, trying to bring Egelhofer in as war minister.
I have frequently fired through my pocket." In a hotel room a half-hour later, Mathilde, grown jubilant as a child, was clapping her hands and laughing. "It was too simple!" she cried. Dorn drew a small suitcase from under the bed and opened it. "Here it is," he laughed. He removed an oblong package. His eyes sought von Stinnes, standing near the window leisurely smoking a cigarette.
Mathilde sat up. Her voice acquired a vicious dullness. "You will not interfere with me, von Stinnes." "I, Matty?" The Baron laughed and resumed his mocha. "I am heart and soul with Levine. If Dorn cannot go I will have to go alone. It is necessary I be in Munich when the Soviets are called out." "You will not interfere with me, von Stinnes," the girl repeated, "or I will kill you."
The marine saluted and walked off. Mathilde had awakened. "What are you doing?" She slipped out of bed and hurried to him. "A letter," he answered. He allowed her to help him back to his pillow. Reclining again, his dizziness grew less. "I'll read it for you," she said. "No. Von Stinnes...." "It may be important." "I'll be able to read in a moment."
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