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Updated: May 6, 2025
He smiled at the girl and covered her hand with his. Her eyes regarded him luminously. They sat eating their late meal, von Stinnes chatting of the latest developments.... A mob of communist workingmen had attacked the poet Muhsam while he was unburdening himself of proletarian oratory in the Schiller Square.
"Stinnes, you are wanted," he called. "I have my portfolio. I am the new minister to Russia. I leave for Moscow to-morrow." "Congratulations!" the Baron answered. A tall, contemplative man with a scraggly gray beard an angular Christ-like figure appeared. He spoke. "What are you doing here, Muhsam? There is work inside." "And you!" angrily. "I must think. We must grow calm."
'All is confusion, there is nothing to report. ... Yes, confusion. There are at present three poets, one lunatic, an epileptic, four workingmen and a scientist from Vienna, and two school teachers. They are the Council of Ten. Look, there is Muhsam, the one with the red vandyke. A poet. He used to recite rhymes in the Cafe Stephanie." The red vandyke peered into the room.
"They chased him for two blocks into the Palais," the Baron smiled, "and he lost his hat. And perhaps his portfolio. They are beginning to distrust the poets. They want something besides revolutionary iambics now. Muhsam, however, is content.
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