With the key, the desk clerk, showing large yellow false teeth in an empty grin, handed him two maroon booklets. Natalie snatched hers and riffled through it as they walked to the elevator. “Okay?” he said. “Seems to be. But I’ll bet anything the Gestapo’s photographed it, and yours too.” “Well, it’s probably routine in this hotel. I don’t think the Portuguese are denying the Germans much nowadays. But what do you care?”
