the wall to get you out of there.” “I was thinking about you, as well,” replied K. uneasily. “So much the better,” said the carer.

“Come with me”. A few steps along, they came to a frosted glass door which the carer opened for him. “Come in here,” she said. It was clearly the lawyer's office, fitted out with old, heavy furniture, as far as could be seen in the moonlight which now illuminated just a small, rectangular section of the floor by each of the three big windows. “This way,” said the carer, pointing to a dark trunk with a carved, wooden backrest. When he had sat down, K. continued to look round the room, it was a large room with a high ceiling, the clients of this lawyer for the poor must have felt quite lost in it. K. thought he could see the