I was hoping, and so on. Mrs. Henriques, Basil’s wife, went around the camps. And she had a list with her of all their various friends and people for her to look out for. She never found any sign- any sign of Franz or Hertha Kuhn. So, you know, eventually you adjust. You accept it. Because what else can you do? A silence- you know, for years I dreamt there they’d be at the door.
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