Just as Marxism was incapable of realising its political conception, so it is incapable of realising its economic ideals. In its attempt to alleviate the want of small change the Cabinet ordered six locksmiths’ shops in Budapest to manufacture twopenny iron coins. The cost of production of each of these coins was over a shilling. The Marxian pamphlet theory has collapsed in the light of the sun; its political application has resulted in unheard-of tyranny and slaughter, and its economic application in bankruptcy and robbery. The Jews have been spreading the news for days that the ‘blue’ money of the Austro-Hungarian Bank is going to be valueless. This morning at dawn their wives went to the bridge over the Ipoly and stopped the peasant women who were bringing their baskets to town. An old woman from the other side came into the yard and told us that the Jewesses were, after all, kind to the poor people. They read out at the bridge the new law about the ‘blue’ money. Those who did not turn back at the news had theirs exchanged by the Jewesses, out of sheer kindness, so as to save them from the Revolutionary Tribunal. For three two-hundred-crown banknotes they had given her a thousand-crown Soviet note. Of course it was a ‘white’ note and her husband would not have such things in the house, but in any case the soldiers would have taken the blue notes and the white ones are better than nothing. Aladár Huszár came in. “What has happened? Anything wrong?” “No, nothing.” He was looking for his wife. They talked for some time, then came back. I felt that they had read the anxiety in my eyes. “A reliable carriage has come from the other side of the Ipoly. You can escape by that.” So we need worry no longer. Fate has decided. “We have no right to detain you. You are safer there.” And tears stood in their eyes too. Aladár Huszár went to bring the carriage to the door while I packed my meagre belongings. It was slow work; every trifle reminded me of something and every movement reminded me that I was still convalescent. Where shall I rest to-night? To part from good friends to go on the road again, further from home, to knock again at strangers’ doors? To ask the Czechs for protection! I shuddered. When I had finished packing I sat down on a chair and held my breath. I wanted to think hard what I should have to do. I had little money and my boots were worn. Yet, somehow I must get to Nyitra, whence I could escape to Vienna. If I got well I might find some work. Or perhaps at Szeged.... It tired me out to think of it. Noon came, then afternoon: Aladár Huszár came in with great glee, a smile in his eyes. “You’ve got to stay with us! The carriage has gone, I could not find it. Fate has decided.” “You stay at home with us,” his wife said softly. Fate’s carriage had gone. Goodness knows where it is now. It may be a good omen, it may mean that these things will not last much longer.