PREVIEW
... not need to sign. A sentence to carry in a coat pocket. Nothing that smells of paper. A phrase to be dropped at the right table."
Ribbentrop bowed his head, relief uncoiling in him like a rope loosening. "Yes, mein Führer."
Hitler's eyes returned to the map.
He touched Danzig with a fingertip, as if to steady the city so it would not slide in the rain.
"We will dine with the devil," he said, almost conversationally, "but we will keep the table knife in our hand." ...
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