"Gottfried, dear old friend. Remember the story I was going to tell you? The story about the inquisitive commandant, the one who was at Belson? He too was always asking questions. Prying. Seeking to learn what went on in other men's minds! Do you know what's it like Gottfried, to hear the same voice over and over, always, always the same words eating into you every day, day after day? No, of course you don't, you weren't there. But I was. I had to listen! And then, one bright, lovely day, they found the poor fellow. He had no tongue! Imagine the irony of it, Gottfried! Oh, I know, I was called in to examine the poor wretch. A beautiful piece of surgery if I do say so myself. Beautiful?"