he bones have fused around it."

She came reluctantly behind and they made a semi-circle past the body,
and stood at a small distance from him on the unshaded portion of the
terrace.

"I would like to check your records," said the German slowly, pointing
to the entrance. But at this the other's manner seemed to grow
hostile. Brunner took a step toward the high door, and then was
certain. The old man tried to cut them off, waving the arm with the
knife. A terrible conflict of doubt seemed to be taking place inside
him, as if in his ravaged mind he could not seize upon the memory he
sought. Brunner walked slowly back into the sunlight. Something had
to be done.

"Stay here," he said to the nurse. "I've got to talk to him."

"NO! Be careful."

He approached slowly, and the creature did not draw away. He drew very
close. Then for all the pain it cost him, and the torment of his soul,
Brunner put a hand on his shoulder, and looked him full in the face.
He was certain. The old man wished them no harm, but was trying
desperately to remember some last purpose he clung to.

"My friend," he said gently, cursing himself again for his weakness and
tears. "I am trying to find my wife..... I have to know if she was
here. May I please go inside and check your records?"

His words were only half understood; the greater impact was made by the
passion in his tearing eyes. A cloud seemed to lift from the old man's
mind, and in some last pool of consciousness he remembered. He was a
librarian. Guarding to the last the books and documents entrusted.....
In case anyone came. . .to search for proofs..... Of the Holocaust.
A gleam of something enduring and undefeatable came into his
half-buried eye. This man was not deformed.

He raised his head and arms above the elbow in a gesture almost of
triumph, and his throat made a sobbing sound..... As Brunner stepped
back the man made a pushing motion with the forefinger of his right
hand, then moved the head forward as if to study the place he had
fingered. He repeated the gesture, then turned to face the doors.

"What's he saying?" The nurse.

"There's a computer terminal inside." Again Brunner felt his heart
pump wildly. He took the girl's hand and started for the door, yet
again the old man cut them off.

But there was no longer fear of War in his eyes; he only had one more
thing he wished to communicate. He tapped his hip with the knife-arm,
pointed to Bru