Page 68 - the-trial

doorway to the courtroom stood a young man, he was short,
his legs were not quite straight, and he continually moved
his finger round in a short, thin, red beard with which he
hoped to make himself look dignified. K. looked at him
with some curiosity, he was the first student he had ever met
of the unfamiliar discipline of jurisprudence, face to face at
least, a man who would even most likely attain high office
one day. The student, in contrast, seemed to take no notice
of K. at all, he merely withdrew his finger from his beard
long enough to beckon to the woman and went over to the
window, the woman leant over to K. and whispered, “Don’t
be cross with me, please don’t, and please don’t think ill of
me either, I’ve got to go to him now, to this horrible man,
just look at his bent legs. But I’ll come straight back and
then I’ll go with you if you’ll take me, I’ll go wherever you
want, you can do whatever you like with me, I’ll be happy if
I can be away from here for as long as possible, it’d be best if
I could get away from here for good.” She stroked K.’s hand
once more, jumped up and ran over to the window. Before
he realised it, K. grasped for her hand but failed to catch it.
He really was attracted to the woman, and even after think-
ing hard about it could find no good reason why he should
not give in to her allure. It briefly crossed his mind that the
woman meant to entrap him on behalf of the court, but that
was an objection he had no difficulty in fending off. In what
way could she entrap him? Was he not still free, so free that
he could crush the entire court whenever he wanted, as least
where it concerned him? Could he not have that much con-
fidence in himself? And her offer of help sounded sincere,