When Walther was old enough to run away from the orphanage, he found that the world outside was no different. Women wanted to use his good looks, to wear him as a badge; but it never went any deeper than that. They gave him gifts of money and clothes and jewelry, but never of themselves.
Walther was her soul mate, Anna realized, her doppelgänger. They were married in a quiet ceremony at the town hall.
Anna had expected her father to be overjoyed. Instead, he had flown into a rage. “You’re a silly, vain fool,” Anton Roffe screamed at her. “You’ve married a no-good fortune hunter. I’ve had him checked out. All his life he’s lived off women, but he’s never found anyone stupid enough to marry him before.”
“Stop it!” Anna cried. “You don’t understand him.”
But Anton Roffe knew that he understood Walther Gassner only too well. He asked his new son-in-law to come to his office.
Walther looked around approvingly at the dark paneling and the old paintings hanging on the walls. “I like this place,” Walther said.
“Yes. I’m sure it’s better than the orphanage.”
Walther looked up at him sharply, his eyes suddenly wary. “I beg your pardon?”
Anton said, “Let’s cut out the Scheiss. You’ve made a mistake. My daughter has no money.”
Walther’s gray eyes seemed to turn to stone. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“I’m not trying to tell you anything. I’m telling you. You won’t get anything from Anna because she hasn’t got anything. If you had done your homework more thoroughly, you would have learned that Roffe and Sons is a close-held corporation. That means that none of its stock can be sold. We live comfortably, but that’s it. There is no big fortune to be milked here.” He fumbled in his pocket, drew out an envelope and threw it on the desk in front of Walther. “This will reimburse you for your trouble. I will expect you to be out of Berlin by six o’clock. I don’t want Anna ever to hear from you again.”
Walther said quietly, “Did it ever cross your mind that I might have married Anna because I fell in love with her?”
“No,” Anton said acidly. “Did it ever cross yours?”
Walther looked at him a moment. “Let’s see what my market price is.” He tore open the envelope and counted the money. He looked up at Anton Roffe again. “I value myself at much higher than twenty thousand marks.”
“It’s all you’re getting. Count yourself lucky.”
“I do,” Walther said. “If you want to know the truth, I think I am very lucky. Thank you.” He put the money in his pocket with a careless gesture and a moment later was walking out the door.
Anton Roffe was relieved. He experienced a slight sense of guilt and distaste for what he had done and yet he knew it had been the only solution. Anna would be unhappy at being deserted by her groom, but it was better to have it happen now than later. He would try to see to it that she met some eligible men her own age, who would at least respect her if not love her. Someone who would be interested in her and not her money or her name. Someone who would not be bought for twenty thousand marks.
When Anton Roffe arrived home, Anna ran up to greet him, tears in her eyes. He took her in his arms and hugged her, and said, “Anna, liebchen, it’s going to be all right. You’ll get over him—”
And Anton looked over her shoulder, and standing in the doorway was Walther Gassner. Anna was holding up her finger, saying, “Look what Walther bought me! Isn’t it the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen? It cost twenty thousand marks.”
In the end, Anna’s parents were forced to accept Walther Gassner. As a wedding gift they bought them a lovely Schinkel manor house in Wannsee, with French furniture, mixed with antiques, comfortable couches and easy chairs, a Roentgen desk in the library, and bookcases lining the walls. The upstairs was furnished with elegant eighteenth-century pieces from Denmark and Sweden.