The community of Marxian proletarians came to my mind. Those teachings which kill human community kill class community too. The times which tear the Saviour from the cross crucify humanity in His place. I took the old woman’s arm and led her through the medley of trams and carriages. “I am sure it is one of the gentlefolk who leads me,” the woman said; “our own people have become so cruel, even to their own kind....” * * * * * _March 7th-8th._ I live from day to day. I have not yet been called before a tribunal. I am not arrested, but their accusations against me remain, nobody has torn up the warrant for my arrest. Why they hesitate about executing it I don’t know, for I shouldn’t trouble to ask them why they arrested me, and certainly wouldn’t accept any intervention on my behalf. I wouldn’t ask them for anything. I am free, and yet I am not. I had intended to visit two provincial towns in the interest of the Women’s Association, but I was warned that if I were to leave Budapest it would be considered flight, and I should be arrested. What am I to do? The elections are coming off shortly. I work too, though I don’t believe in them. The situation would be just the same if, regardless of all intimidation, the patriotic masses were to secure a majority. Social Democracy is not particular about its means; it has roused the workmen with the story of the world-saving powers of the equal and secret ballot, and now when this has been obtained and it ought to submit to its judgment, the official Government journal says right out: “If Socialism were, for whatever reason, to lose the battle, it would be ultimately obliged to resort to arms against the counter-revolution....” The election can’t help us. Something else will have to happen. And it will happen. It is in the air. A monster cord is tightening round us, and when it snaps it will draw blood from those it strikes. * * * * * _March 9th._ The red fist is raised higher every day and becomes more and more threatening. In a friendly way it points occasionally to the gallows, and then towards gaol. This morning it has again honoured me with its attention. The official paper of the Social Democratic headquarters, under the title ‘The visiting Counter-Revolution,’ makes an onslaught on those who, without the knowledge of the Government, are communicating with the envoys of the Entente, and, in company with others, it calls me a counter-revolutionary spy.