“I want to do things to you, Cassie,” he yelled. “I want to do things with you. I want to make you squeal, and beg for more. There! Are you happy now?”I felt my nipples tingle and suddenly I wanted to squeeze them. But I also knew that he was vulnerable, had just admitted his vulnerability to me. It was incredible, because this man I liked so much, had admitted something that most women would have screamed at him for. But all it did was make me feel wonderful. Talk about a shot in the arm! A grown man, who could have any woman he wanted, wanted me!“Actually, I am happy,” I said, trying to keep my voice normal. “Thank you for your honesty. I appreciate that. And I’ll try not to tease you.”“You don’t want to go home?” He sounded astonished.I looked at him, standing there with my shirt open, but only a few inches.“Home is the last place I want to go right now,” I said, seriously. “Now, I know I stink, and I’m pretty sure you stink, too. Maybe we can talk about taking showers together. Then she was driven away without any inkling of her destination. Her reasoning was that if she was to be shot, the ever efficient Germans would not have gone to the trouble of driving her any distance before disposing of her.At the Gestapo headquarters she was first left in a cold dark windowless cell with no furniture whatever, lacking even toilet facilities beyond a drain hole in one corner of the room. Only a bare concrete floor was available for sitting or sleeping. Margery spent an interminable time there, totally unable to judge how long she had been there, or how much longer she would suffer, dressed as she was only in her revealing evening dress, with no underwear, shoes or coat.Three hours, which felt like an eternity to her, later she was taken out of the cell by two guards in ordinary Army uniforms and marched into an office. A short, fat man in plain clothes, who looked more like a bank clerk than a torturer, took charge of Margery's interrogation. She was made to stand.
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