CHAPTER TWENTYMy hands had stopped shaking by the time I retrieved the children from a wide-eyed Zsuzsa — news of the demonstration outside the Pilvax had reached the palace already — but it was very difficult to concentrate on the task of teaching when my mind was full of anxiety and a desperation to know what was happening. Neither István nor Mattias came home all morning. There was no sign of Elisabeth, but Katalin, as restless as I, soon came to the schoolroom and stood beside me at the window, watching the rain roll down the glass in great, fat drops. The weather was getting worse: I could only hope it would damp revolutionary ardour.
“Do you think Alex will be at the Museum this afternoon?” Katalin murmured.
I stared at her. “Did he arrange to be?” If I had known that, I would not
