The Unlikely Allies by Gilbert Morris Page B

he could never quite get at. He knew this was the Jewish side of her nature. Her heritage went back into history through long and bloody and terrible times. The times they themselves now lived in were ominous and uncertain, and he knew she dreaded what might come in the future to her and her family and her people.
    “You’ll be going home soon,” Derek said finally. “Let me come and meet your parents.”
    “It would be useless, Derek.”
    “No it wouldn’t. If I lose you, I could never find you again, Rachel.” He took a bite of his Danish and chewed thoughtfully. “There’s an old Persian myth about the creation of the world. It says that God made only one person—it was half male and half female. But when it sinned, God tore it apart as one would tear a sheet of paper apart. You know how that is. When you tear it apart, you can put it back together, for the pieces fit exactly. So . . . the creatures that were separated fit only each other.”
    “What does it mean, Derek?”
    “According to the myth, these two creatures spent their lives trying to find the one piece that matches. There are some that almost match, but only one will be the perfect match—the one it was separated from.”
    “That’s a beautiful myth. I’ve never heard it before.”
    “I feel like that about you, Rachel. You and I match. I’ll never find another woman I’ll love as I love you.”
    “Perhaps not exactly, but you’ll find someone.”
    “Don’t say that. Please, let me come and visit you.”
    Rachel hesitated. She had steeled herself to this moment of parting, and now that it had come, she knew she could not do it. “All right.” She smiled. “But my parents will be surprised when I bring home a goy.”
    “What’s a goy?”
    “Anyone who’s not Jewish.”
    Derek ate the last of his Danish and looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go. My train will be leaving.”
    The two rose. Derek paid the bill and bade the owner good-bye.
    “I’ll see you soon, non? ” Monsieur Valdoux asked.
    “No. I’m leaving Paris.”
    “Oh, that is so sad! We will miss you, but you’ll come back. Paris will draw you. You can’t ever leave Paris. It goes with you.”
    Derek shook the man’s hand and left. As they got into a taxi, he said, “Gare Saint-Lazare, s’il vous pla î t.” The two sat silently in the backseat. He put his arm around Rachel and held her close while she took his left hand in hers and held it as tightly as she could.
    When they reached the station, the two got out, and Derek asked the cab driver to wait. The sky was overcast and gray, and a fine sleet was falling.
    “It’s a miserable day to leave,” he said. “I wish the sun were shining.”
    Rachel simply looked up at him, and he took her in his arms. He held her gaze, then kissed her. When he lifted his lips from hers, he said huskily, “Things can change. Wait for me.”
    “God be with you, my sweet,” she whispered, her throat thick with hopelessness.
    Derek released her and helped her back into the cab. He told the driver the address of her apartment, and after onelast kiss through the window, he took up his suitcase and disappeared into the crowd entering the busy train station. When he reached the door, he turned to wave good-bye once again, but the cab was gone. An unhappiness and misery such as he had never known came over him. He set down his suitcase and looked out over the busy traffic, hoping to catch one last glance of the taxi that had taken his love away. With a sudden wrench, he walked through the entrance, knowing this was the lowest point of his life.
    ****
    General Wilhelm Grüber could have posed for a picture of the ideal German officer. Tall and broad-shouldered, he exuded the strength and vitality of a man much younger than fifty. His uniform molded itself around his strong figure as if it had been painted on. His hair was iron gray with a curl, cut and trimmed with precision, and his trim mustache matched exactly. All of his