“Did you know," he said, "that until almost this very moment nothing would have delighted me more than to prove that you were a spy, to see you shot?"
"No," I said.
"And do you know why I don't care now if you were a spy or not?" he said. "You could tell me now that you were a spy, and we would go on talking calmly, just as we're talking now. I would let you wander off to wherever spies go when a war is over. You know why?" he said.
"No," I said.
"Because you could never have served the enemy as well as you served us," he said. "I realized that almost all the ideas that I hold now, that make me unashamed of anything I may have felt or done as a Nazi, came not from Hitler, not from Goebbels, not from Himmler--but from you." He took my hand. "You alone kept me from concluding that Germany had gone insane.”