MVR and his 'bride'

‘A scherzo between yesterday and today. Manfred intends to write a book. It is to be called ‘The Red Fighter Pilot’. A major Berlin publishing house wants to publish it and has sent a skilful, distinctive-looking typist to Schweidnitz for this purpose. She was staying at the ‘Krone’. Manfred dictated to her in the morning - in the evening he read the finished manuscript pages to us; I found it fresh and vividly written. Given the great interest shown in Manfred, the presence of the pretty young girl in our house caused quite a stir. Once when Manfred brought her to the garden gate, a couple of inquisitive ladies came by. Hesitantly, with painstakingly restrained curiosity, they stopped and greeted Manfred with great care, never taking their eyes off the modestly smiling young lady standing at the side. A mischievousness flashed in Manfred's eyes; he was now the boy again. He made a connecting hand gesture: ‘My bride!’ he introduced deadly serious. I stood in the garden and saw how the smart Berlin girl bit her lips; I also started laughing. The ladies, on the other hand - with the wary suspicion that is usually associated with curiosity - turned rather coolly and hurried away. ‘Yes,’ Manfred said with a laugh, ’at least that rounded off the situation.’