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Shortly before Paris was occupied, Maurice had me return to my native Morocco.
My parents—my dear parents whom I loved so much and whom I never saw again—were, alas, dead. The other members of the…
“You come from Poland, Monsieur David . . . ?”
“Davidovich.”
Lévy, his host, looking with desperation at the traveling salesman, supplied the name. Still sweating from fear, Lévy was now sweating for…
Mariette was preparing for her first communion. This was serious:
“The most beautiful day of my life, you understand!”
I didn’t understand.
“There’ll be bells ringing and music and lights…
Have I made it clear how much I indulge my husband? Seven years of love had been simply one long series of concessions, joyfully made in a whirl of happiness. I adjusted to everything, all the…
[ . . . ] Braendel dragged the poor woman into the smoky room, which stank of sweat, beer, and wine, and cried out in a loud voice, “Aren’t you ashamed, you children of honest Jews, to drink and…