ALL SEARCHES MUST COME TO AN END. It's good, then, when they conclude as successfully as Maria's and Max’s. Even the most peaceful of summer days will slip away, surviving only as a memory.

Our pair wanders in the area for a few more days, here and there, freed from the everyday. Then, Hamburg — and once again, life shows its normal side. First, they happen into a city district that is quite stirred up: just now, yet again, a bank has been held up for its payroll deposits.

“Do you think need caused it?,” asked Max. “No. If someone's in need, they might steal another's wallet, even hit him on the head out of anger, or steal a sausage from a store. But you don't use a revolver to steal sixty thousand out of desperation. What shit!”

“You!,” says Maria, “You’re right. But aren't a lot of things senseless? For our time, today, so senseless? Think about the steaks and roasts that we got so cheap on our trip, and then compare the prices to what they charge in the cities. Are they not prices for those who make more than 400 marks? Simple people like us — with or without higher education — don't want to eat just soup meat and mutton. At the same time, we can't afford the more expensive stuff. But the stores would rather let the food rot than sell it for less. I mean, really, who can spend a mark or more these days on one veal cutlet?”

“Child,” says Max, “at first glance I want to say that it's the middleman. But try to cut him out if you can. One mustn't forget that he has to cover the costs of distribution, shipping, train tariffs, and more taxes than I want to think about. That's why we could get thick creamy milk in the countryside for a quarter of what skim would cost back in Berlin. There's a surplus where things are produced. By the time things get to the customers, though, the prices are set. That's the way it is all over the world, and that's the way it is in Germany. Surplus here — shortage there. There aren't enough bridges. And only walls are being built.”