"After the war perhaps," Hans said, an expression of time he relied on entirely too much. But what else was there, other than that vague sense of 'someday'? Someday this madness had to end, one way or another...
He rolled over to lean on his elbow, watching Marie-Pierre as he smoked. "I have always thought if I should go to the Americas, I would go by boat not plane. Have you ever been in a plane? Only once for me, and that was enough."