the Englishman said, as Liesl von Bishop handed him his crutches. He smiled at her. He had a broad face. Square, as if his jaw muscles were overdeveloped. “Danke schön,” he repeated. “Excellent, Mr Cobb,” cried Dr Deppe. “An accent of first class quality!” Liesl suppressed the usual stab of irritation. Deppe was so smug about his English. Who did he think he was? She was married to someone who was half-English, after all. She had even visited the country. Deppe thought he was so wonderful. Liesl watched the English officer totter to his feet. His arms and shoulders began to shake with the effort of keeping himself upright. Liesl and Deppe ran to his side and eased him back onto the bed again. “Gosh,” he said. “Still a bit rocky.” “It’s not astonishing,” Liesl said. “You are very weak, yet.” The Englishman was surprised to hear her speaking English. “Frau von Bishop is a linguist too,” Deppe said patronizingly, as he propped the crutches beside the bed.
