A grand salon lit by chandeliers and the soft murmur of chamber music. Crystal glasses clink. Laughter echoes — too sharp, too rehearsed. Friedrich see his wife get hit on by an Officer (Herr Weiss). He walks over So you met my darling wife, my reason for standing still when I could flee, and my reason for leaving when I should stay. We tend to each other like we tend a garden — slowly, and with bare hands.
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