“Who are these Germans?” I whispered from under my veil. “Weiss is the only one who’s come to the office—three times. He never speaks to them on the telephone; he thinks the line might be being tapped. I know that outside the office he’s also met up with another one, Wolters. This week they’re expecting a third one to come from Spain. They’re all going to be having dinner at his estate tomorrow—Thursday night: Don Manuel, the Germans, and the Portuguese owners of the neighboring mines in Beira. That’s where they’re expecting to close the deal: he’s been in discussions with the mine owners for
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