Page 32 - the-metamorphosis

what his sister out of the goodness of her heart in fact did.
She brought him, to test his taste, an entire selection, all
spread out on an old newspaper. There were old half-rot-
ten vegetables, bones from the evening meal, covered with
a white sauce which had almost solidified, some raisins
and almonds, cheese, which Gregor had declared inedible
two days earlier, a slice of dry bread, a slice of salted bread
smeared with butter. In addition to all this, she put down a
bowl (probably designated once and for all as Gregor’s) into
which she had poured some water. And out of her delicacy
of feeling, since she knew that Gregor would not eat in front
of her, she went away very quickly and even turned the key
in the lock, so that Gregor could now observe that he could
make himself as comfortable as he wished. Gregor’s small
limbs buzzed as the time for eating had come. His wounds
must, in any case, have already healed completely. He felt
no handicap on that score. He was astonished at that and
thought about it, how more than a month ago he had cut his
finger slightly with a knife and how this wound had hurt
enough even the day before yesterday.
‘Am I now going to be less sensitive,’ he thought, already
sucking greedily on the cheese, which had strongly attract-
ed him right away, more than all the other foods. Quickly
and with his eyes watering with satisfaction, he ate one after
the other the cheese, the vegetables, and the sauce; the fresh
food, by contrast, didn’t taste good to him. He couldn’t bear
the smell and even carried the things he wanted to eat a
little distance away. By the time his sister slowly turned the
key as a sign that he should withdraw, he was long finished

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