looked around for a more imposing apartment, and begged
Carin to travel to Berlin in time for the elections. She arrived in
mid-May, a few days before the poll. By that time he had rented
a little apartment at No. , Berchtesgadener Strasse. On the sev-
enteenth, three days before the election, he carried Carin into
the large corner room he had prepared for her, with its sun-
drenched balcony smothered with white lilac. Sick though she
was, she was in ecstasy to be with him again.
“I had a bath,” she wrote to her mother, “and Hermann
unpacked for me. I rested an hour, then three of Hermann’s
best friends came and invited us to a fine, stylish luncheon with
champagne and Schwedische platte.”
They dined at sunset on the shores of a Berlin lake, “amid
the most revolting Jews!” They lunched with chopsticks at a
Chinese restaurant where “slant-eyed” waitresses in kimonos
served strawberries, and they talked excitedly about Sunday’s
polling day:
They’ve already begun shooting it out. Every day the
Communists parade with their crooked noses and red
flags with the Star of David... and meet Hitler’s men
carrying their red banners with swastikas (but without
the crooked noses). Then there’s a pitched battle, with
dead and injured. Oh, if only things go well for
Hermann, we would have some peace for a long time... just think!!!
She followed this letter with a telegram on the twenty-first:
:
, .Hitler’s party had attracted enough votes nationwide for
twelve deputies to be returned to the Reichstag. So Göring was