Page 267 - the-trial

tle hands. “Some ancient, unimportant actors that’s what
they’ve sent for me,” said K. to himself, and looked round
once again to confirm this to himself. “They want to sort
me out as cheaply as they can.” K. suddenly turned round to
face the two men and asked, “What theatre do you play in?”
“Theatre?” asked one of the gentlemen, turning to the other
for assistance and pulling in the corners of his mouth. The
other made a gesture like someone who was dumb, as if he
were struggling with some organism causing him trouble.
“You’re not properly prepared to answer questions,” said K.
and went to fetch his hat.
As soon as they were on the stairs the gentlemen wanted
to take K.’s arms, but K. said “Wait till we’re in the street,
I’m not ill.” But they waited only until the front door before
they took his arms in a way that K. had never experienced
before. They kept their shoulders close behind his, did not
turn their arms in but twisted them around the entire length
of K.’s arms and took hold of his hands with a grasp that was
formal, experienced and could not be resisted. K. was held
stiff and upright between them, they formed now a single
unit so that if any one of them had been knocked down all
of them must have fallen. They formed a unit of the sort that
normally can be formed only by matter that is lifeless.
Whenever they passed under a lamp K. tried to see his
companions more clearly, as far as was possible when they
were pressed so close together, as in the dim light of his
room this had been hardly possible. “Maybe they’re tenors,”
he thought as he saw their big double chins. The cleanliness
of their faces disgusted him. He could see the hands that

The Trial