shoulders above them, stood a man with a shirt open at the neck and a reddish, pointed
beard, which he kept pinching and twisting with his fingers. “Joseph K. ?” asked the
Inspector, perhaps merely to draw K.’s roving glance upon himself. K. nodded. “You are
presumably very much surprised at the events of this morning?” asked the Inspector, with
both hands rearranging the few things that lay on the night table, a candle and a matchbox,
a book and a pincushion, as if they were objects which he required for his interrogation.
“Certainly,” said K., and he was filled with pleasure at having encountered a sensible man
at last, with whom he could discuss the matter. “Certainly, I am surprised, but I am by no
means very much surprised.” “Not very much surprised?” asked the Inspector, setting the
candle in the middle of the table and then grouping the other things round it. “Perhaps you
misunderstand me,” K. hastened to add. “I mean” — here K. stopped and looked round him
for a chair. “I suppose I may sit down?” he asked. “It’s not usual,” answered the Inspector.
“I mean,” said K. without further parley, “that I am very much surprised, of course, but
when one has lived for thirty years in this world and had to fight one’s way through it, as I
have had to do, one becomes hardened to surprises and doesn’t take them too seriously.
Particularly the one this morning.” * “Why particularly the one this morning?” “I won’t
say that I regard the whole thing as a joke, for the preparations that have been made seem
too elaborate for that. The whole staff of the boarding-house would have to be involved, as
well as all you people, and that would be past a joke. So I don’t say that it’s a joke.” “Quite
right,” said the Inspector, looking to see how many matches there were in the matchbox.
“But on the other hand,” K. went on, turning to everybody there — he wanted to bring in
the three young men standing beside the photographs as well — “on the other hand, it can’t
be an affair of any great importance either. I argue this from the fact that though I am
accused of something, I cannot recall the slightest offense that might be charged against
me. But that even is of minor importance, the real question is, who accuses me P What
authority is conducting these proceedings? Are you officers of the law? None of you has a
uniform, unless your suit” — here he turned to Franz — “is to be considered a uniform, but
it’s more like a tourist’s outfit. I demand a clear answer to these questions, and I feel sure
that after an explanation we shall be able to part from each other on the best of terms.” The
Inspector flung the matchbox down on the table. “You are laboring under a great
delusion,” he said. “These gentlemen here and myself have no standing whatever in this
affair of yours, indeed we know hardly anything about it. We might wear the most official uniforms and your case would not be a penny the worse. I can’t even confirm that you are
charged with an offense, or rather I don’t know whether you are. You are under arrest,
certainly, more than that I do not know. Perhaps the warders have given you a different
impression, but they are only irresponsible gossips. * However, if I can’t answer your
questions, I can at least give you a piece of advice; think less about us and of what is going
to happen to you, think more about yourself instead. And don’t make such an outcry about
your feeling innocent, it spoils the not unfavorable impression you make in other respects.
Also you should be far more reticent, nearly everything you have just said could have been
implied in your behavior with the help of a word here and there, and in any case does not
redound particularly to your credit.”
K. stared at the Inspector. Was he to be taught lessons in manners by a man probably
younger than himself? To be punished for his frankness by a rebuke? And about the cause