notes5

He had the thick, curled mustache so beloved of older men,

now a silver white, but that hair sought escape from such
control. With the thinning mop of strands perched on his
head, it risked being comic. Something in his expression of
intense disapproval and reprimand suggested otherwise
• Behind him hung a flag that it took Sarah a moment to identify. It
was the war flag of the Kaiser’s German Empire, defeated in the last
war. It made a change, she thought. “They are almost exactly fifteen
minutes late, as decorum demands, Vater,” Lisbeth chided, rising
and turning to the guests. She was now wearing a cream evening
dress, something Sarah recognized from her early childhood as
being almost twenty years out of fashion. The lace was yellowing
and the material had been darned and repaired, yet she made it
look like she was on the cover of the latest Filmwelt. Sarah also
noticed she had fixed the mascara trail and restored a perfectly
powdered complexion. On a leather strap around her neck was a
long, thin necklace carved out of one piece of white stone