They arrived at the hotel. The lobby was thronged with people. A chocolate salesman from Switzerland was orating: "They have erected a guillotine in Marien Platz. They are shooting down and beheading everybody who wears a white collar." The hotel proprietor quieted the crowd. "Nonsense!" he cried. "Ridiculous nonsense! We are safe. They are all good Bavarians and will hurt nobody." Dorn led Mathilde to his room. She threw herself on the bed. "So tired!" she whispered. "But happy," he added. "Your beloved masses have triumphed." "Don't. I'm sick of talking...." "Too much excitement," he smiled. They became silent. Dorn, watching her carelessly in the dimly lighted room, began to think.... "Disillusionment already. The dream has died in her. A child's brain overstuffed with slogans, it begins now to ache and grow confused. Tyranny, injustice, seem far away and vague. The revolution in the streets has blown the revolution out of her heart. There will be many like that to-morrow. The over-idealized idealists will empty first. The revolution was a dream. The reality of it will eat up the dream. Justice to the dreamer is a vision of new stars. To the workingman--another loaf of bread." "Of what are you thinking, Erik?" "Of nothing ... and its many variants," he answered. "We've won," she sighed. "Oh, what a day!" He noted the listlessness in her voice. "Yes," he said, "another sham has had heroic birth. Out of workingmen with guns there will rise some day a new society which will be different than the old, only as to-morrow is different than to-day. The rivers, Mathilde, flow to the sea and life flows to death. And there is nothing else of consequence for intelligence to record." "You talk like a German of the last century," she smiled. "Oh, you're a strange man!" This pleased him. He thought of words, a ramble of words--but a knock at the door. Von Stinnes entered. He was carrying a basket. "Food," he announced cheerfully. "With food in our stomachs the world will seem more coherent for a while." He busied himself arranging plates of sandwiches on a small table. "Mathilde asleep?" He walked to the bed and leaned over her. The girl's eyes were closed. "Poor child, poor child!" the Baron whispered. He caressed her head gently. "We will not wake her up. But eat and leave her food. Do you mind if we go out for a while? It is still early and it will be hard to sleep to-night. I know a café where we can sit quietly and drink wine, perhaps with cookies." Their eating finished, Dorn accompanied his friend into the street. "It seems as if nothing had happened," he said, as they walked through the spring night. "People are asleep as usual, and there is an odor of summer in the dark." Von Stinnes silently directed their way. After a half-hour's walk he paused in front of an ancient-looking building. "We are in Schwabbing now," he said, "the rendezvous of the Welt Anschauers. I think this place is still open."