I felt relieved when we came out of the sea of people into quieter streets. The carriage stopped at our house in Stonemason Street. Under the porch a half-turned-on gas lamp was burning, which threw a light up to the ceiling but left everything under our feet in darkness. The house seemed to have become shabby during the summer. The staircase was dull and ugly. The fires smoked and nothing was as it used to be when we came in olden times to our friendly winter home. Disorder, covered furniture, draped pictures. It was like wearing summer clothes on a frosty winter day. “Well, we are settled for the winter now, mother dear,” I laughed, to make it seem more cheerful. My mother laughed too and we both pretended to be happy. A clumsy little German maid rushed about among the trunks and did nothing. Our faithful farmer neighbour, who had kindly escorted the luggage, was struggling with the fires. The housekeeper boiled some water over a spirit lamp. My mother went to and fro, and wherever her hand reached order sprang up. All at once the little green room assumed a friendly appearance and tea steamed in the cups on the white covered table. Home was home again and we smiled at each other. “The many war winters have passed, and this is going to pass too.” “This is worse than the winters of the war,” my mother said with unusual gloom. I looked involuntarily at the window. Out there beyond, a big town was breathing, but it was impossible to get information from its chaos. The scum had got the upper hand; was any resistance being organised? It was impossible that things should remain like this! One regiment coming back in order, one energetic commander, and Károlyi’s band will tumble from power. Newspapers lay on the table, and my eyes fell on a proclamation of Károlyi, which he had made in the presence of the representatives of the Budapest press: “From the 1st of November Hungary becomes a neutral state,” he declared. “This tired government....” He did not say what the Entente powers would say to this neutrality. Further on he spoke of the Minister of War.... “He had immortal merits in obtaining peace. History will not fail to recognise the credit due to him; Linder has rendered to the Hungarian people services of eternal value and usefulness....” I remembered the disgraceful scene in front of the House of Parliament, a scene cunningly contrived by those in the background.... “I do not want to see any more soldiers....” I had heard since that it was for this sentence, promised beforehand, that the social democrats gave the Ministry of War to the obscure Linder. The price of his portfolio was the disruption of the army. And Károlyi spoke of history’s gratitude! On the last page of the paper I found accidentally an extract of the conditions of the armistice.