It is easier to hope with Elisabeth beside him, but still Anton wishes she were back in Stuttgart. Winter gives way slowly to a gray, wet spring. The crocuses bloom, painting the milk cow’s pasture and the yard at the foot of the stair with strokes of purple and white. There is no one to build the rabbit garden this year, but with the few coins that remain to him, Anton buys a bar of chocolate from the bakery and sends it to the children in Stuttgart. The crocuses fade, the season of resurrection passes, and still the papers bear witness only to the Führer’s immortality. But where there is
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