Later, when Dada and his dearest, oldest friend, Gusti Kubizek, were seated outside a busy café, drinking coffee, Dada told him about the new show, t national dances being incorporated, and the article in Neue Freie Presse fearing the demise of the Viennese Waltz under a tsunami of Foreign dances! "these people are so narrow, so prejudiced, they can't see that it is the very cosmopolitan milieu of Vienna that gives it the vibrancy people want and need!" and Gusti examined him, the ghost of a smile on his lips: "what's so funny, Gusti?" and his friend leant forward: "you used to be critical of all the incomers, Dada, I remember you arguing that Vienna, indeed Austria, was being changed by these people and their customs, religions, languages, and that there needed to be a cleansing of the Empire if we wanted to remain Austrian, German, even European!" and Dada hung his head, his cheeks burning as he blushed to his roots, then he looked up, a lopsided grin on his face: "did I really say that? yes, I admit it, I did, and it shows how narrow-minded, how insular we were, back home, and the shock of the new when we first came to Vienna overwhelmed me! I realized how ignorant I was, how little I knew of the world, so I read all the German-language newspapers, went to political meetings, studied – but only narrow-minded nationalist books and journals, and that meant that I only confirmed the prejudices of my childhood; I was a failure as an artist, rejected by the very people I believed in, and where did my salvation come from? from a Jewish shopkeeper who sold my paintings to his Jewish customers, from his Jewish wife who welcomed me into their home for good food and companionship; where were the Austrians? the Germans? to them I was only a candidate for workfare, unemployed and unemployable and so ignored, given a pittance for a day's hard labour; before the Morgansterns, Sam and Emma, took me under their wing I was literally starving, in truly dire straits, malnourished, with acute pains, sick – anyone else would have turned me away at the door, and had already, but not Sam – it was a bit like the Good Samaritan story, but here I was a Christian in distress and it was the Good Jew who rescued me; that gave me cause to think, between painting scenes to fit Sam's frames, and drawing cartoons of the patrons in the busier coffee shops, in exchange for a coffee and a meal, so I became somewhat ambivalent about the prejudices I had grown up with, and I remembered my mother's doctor was also a Jew, and that added to the scales in favour of a different outlook; and then I met Jakob and Miriam and was invited to join Cabaret Voltaire! and then I met Magda, and fell in love, headlong, madly, completely, so – my views of unyore? they are my views no more! oh! don't look so stricken, Gusti. I'm not a Communist, though I mingle with many, and Anarchists, and Republicans, and Mohammedans, and even some Serbians and Bosnians! now, mark my words, they are the ones to keep an eye on – that place is a powder-keg and if someone puts a match to the fuse? BOOM!"