The Trial: Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Block, the businessman - Dismissing the lawyer

K. had at last made the decision to withdraw his defence from the
lawyer. It was impossible to remove his doubts as to whether this was
the right decision, but this was outweighed by his belief in its
necessity. This decision, on the day he intended to go to see the
lawyer, took a lot of the strength he needed for his work, he worked
exceptionally slowly, he had to remain in his office a long time, and it
was already past ten o'clock when he finally stood in front of the
lawyer's front door. Even before he rang he considered whether it might
not be better to give the lawyer notice by letter or telephone, a
personal conversation would certainly be very difficult. Nonetheless,
K. did not actually want to do without it, if he gave notice by any
other means it would be received in silence or with a few formulated
words, and unless Leni could discover anything K. would never learn how
the lawyer had taken his dismissal and what its consequences might be,
in the lawyer's not unimportant opinion. But sitting in front of him
and taken by surprise by his dismissal, K. would be able easily to infer
everything he wanted from the lawyer's face and behaviour, even if he
could not be induced to say very much. It was not even out of the
question that K. might, after all, be persuaded that it would be best to
leave his defence to the lawyer and withdraw his dismissal.

As usual, there was at first no response to K.'s ring at the door.
"Leni could be a bit quicker," thought K. But he could at least be glad
there was nobody else interfering as usually happened, be it the man in
his nightshirt or anyone else who might bother him. As K. pressed on
the button for the second time he looked back at the other door, but
this time it, too, remained closed. At last, two eyes appeared at the
spy-hatch in the lawyer's door, although they weren't Leni's eyes.
Someone unlocked the door, but kept himself pressed against it as he
called back inside, "It's him!", and only then did he open the door
properly. K. pushed against the door, as behind him he could already
hear the key being hurriedly turned in the lock of the door to the other
flat. When the door in front of him finally opened, he stormed straight
into the hallway. Through the corridor which led between the rooms he
saw Leni, to whom the warning cry of the door opener had been directed,
still running away in her nightshirt . He looked at her for a moment
and then looked round at the person who had opened the door. It was a
small, wizened man with a full beard, he held a candle in his hand. "Do
you work here?" asked K. "No," answered the man, "I don't belong here
at all, the lawyer is only representing me, I'm here on legal business."
"Without your coat?" asked K., indicating the man's deficiency of dress
with a gesture of his hand. "Oh, do forgive me!" said the man, and he
looked at himself in the light of the candle he was holding as if he had
not known about his appearance until then.
"Is Leni your lover?" asked K. curtly. He had set his legs slightly
apart, his hands, in which he held his hat, were behind his back.
Merely by being in possession of a thick overcoat he felt his advantage
over this thin little man. "Oh God," he said and, shocked, raised one
hand in front of his face as if in defence, "no, no, what can you be
thinking?" "You look honest enough," said K. with a smile, "but come
along anyway." K. indicated with his hat which way the man was to go
and let him go ahead of him. "What is your name then?" asked K. on the
way. "Block. I'm a businessman," said the small man, twisting himself
round as he thus introduced himself, although K. did not allow him to
stop moving. "Is that your real name?" asked K. "Of course it is," was
the man's reply, "why do you doubt it?" "I thought you might have some
reason to keep your name secret," said K. He felt himself as much at
liberty as is normally only felt in foreign parts when speaking with
people of lower standing, keeping everything about himself to himself,
speaking only casually about the interests of the other, able to raise
him to a level above one's own, but also able, at will, to let him drop
again. K. stopped at the door of the lawyer's office, opened it and, to
the businessman who had obediently gone ahead, called, "Not so fast!
Bring some light here!" K. thought Leni might have hidden in here, he
let the businessman search in every corner, but the room was empty. In
front of the picture of the judge K. took hold of the businessman's
braces to stop him moving on. "Do you know him?" he asked, pointing
upwards with his finger. The businessman lifted the candle, blinked as
he looked up and said, "It's a judge." "An important judge?" asked K.,
and stood to the side and in front of the businessman so that he could
observe what impression the picture had on him. The businessman was
looking up in admiration. "He's an important judge." "You don't have
much insight," said K. "He is the lowest of the lowest examining
judges." "I remember now," said the businessman as he lowered the
candle, "that's what I've already been told." "Well of course you
have," called out K., "I'd forgotten about it, of course you would
already have been told." "But why, why?" asked the businessman as he
moved forwards towards the door, propelled by the hands of K. Outside
in the corridor K. said,
"You know where Leni's hidden, do you?" "Hidden?" said the businessman,
"No, but she might be in the kitchen cooking soup for the lawyer." "Why
didn't you say that immediately?" asked K. "I was going to take you
there, but you called me back again," answered the businessman, as if
confused by the contradictory commands. "You think you're very clever,
don't you," said K, "now take me there!" K. had never been in the
kitchen, it was surprisingly big and very well equipped. The stove
alone was three times bigger than normal stoves, but it was not possible
to see any detail beyond this as the kitchen was at the time illuminated
by no more than a small lamp hanging by the entrance. At the stove
stood Leni, in a white apron as always, breaking eggs into a pot
standing on a spirit lamp.
"Good evening, Josef," she said with a glance sideways. "Good evening,"
said K., pointing with one hand to a chair in a corner which the
businessman was to sit on, and he did indeed sit down on it. K. however
went very close behind Leni's back, leant over her shoulder and asked,
"Who is this man?" Leni put one hand around K. as she stirred the soup
with the other, she drew him forward toward herself and said, "He's a
pitiful character, a poor businessman by the name of Block. Just look
at him." The two of them looked back over their shoulders. The
businessman was sitting on the chair that K. had directed him to, he had
extinguished the candle whose light was no longer needed and pressed on
the wick with his fingers to stop the smoke. "You were in your
nightshirt," said K., putting his hand on her head and turning it back
towards the stove. She was silent. "Is he your lover?" asked K. She
was about to take hold of the pot of soup, but K. took both her hands
and said, "Answer me!" She said, "Come into the office, I'll explain
everything to you." "No," said K., "I want you to explain it here."
She put her arms around him and wanted to kiss him. K., though, pushed
her away and said, "I don't want you to kiss me now." "Josef," said
Leni, looking at K. imploringly but frankly in the eyes, "you're not
going to be jealous of Mr. Block now, are you? Rudi," she then said,
turning to the businessman, "help me out will you, I'm being suspected
of something, you can see that, leave the candle alone." It had looked
as though Mr. Block had not been paying attention but he had been
following closely. "I don't even know why you might be jealous," he
said ingenuously. "Nor do I, actually," said K., looking at the
businessman with a smile. Leni laughed out loud and while K. was not
paying attention took the opportunity of embracing him and whispering,
"Leave him alone, now, you can see what sort of person he is. I've been
helping him a little bit because he's an important client of the
lawyer's, and no other reason. And what about you? Do you want to
speak to the lawyer at this time of day? He's very unwell today, but if
you want I'll tell him you're here. But you can certainly spend the
night with me. It's so long since you were last here, even the lawyer
has been asking about you. Don't neglect your case! And I've got some
things to tell you that I've learned about. But now, before anything
else, take your coat off!" She helped him off with his coat, took the
hat off his head, ran with the things into the hallway to hang them up,
then she ran back and saw to the soup. "Do you want me to tell him
you're here straight away or take him his soup first?" "Tell him I'm
here first," said K. He was in a bad mood, he had originally intended a
detailed discussion of his business with Leni, especially the question
of his giving the lawyer notice, but now he no longer wanted to because
of the presence of the businessman. Now he considered his affair too
important to let this little businessman take part in it and perhaps
change some of his decisions, and so
he called Leni back even though she was already on her way to the
lawyer. "Bring him his soup first," he said, "I want him to get his
strength up for the discussion with me, he'll need it." "You're a
client of the lawyer's too, aren't you," said the businessman quietly
from his corner as if he were trying to find this out. It was not,
however, taken well. "What business is that of yours?" said K., and
Leni said,
"Will you be quiet. - I'll take him his soup first then, shall I?" And
she poured the soup into a dish. "The only worry then is that he might
go to sleep soon after he's eaten." "What I've got to say to him will
keep him awake," said K., who still wanted to intimate that he intended
some important negotiations with the lawyer, he wanted Leni to ask him
what it was and only then to ask her advice. But instead, she just
promptly carried out the order he had given her. When she went over to
him with the dish she deliberately brushed against him and whispered,
"I'll tell him you're here as soon as he's eaten the soup so that I can
get you back as soon as possible." "Just go," said K., "just go." "Be
a bit more friendly," she said and, still holding the dish, turned
completely round once more in the doorway.

K. watched her as she went; the decision had finally been made
that the lawyer was to be dismissed, it was probably better that he had
not been able to discuss the matter any more with Leni beforehand; she
hardly understood the complexity of the matter, she would certainly have
advised him against it and perhaps would even have prevented him from
dismissing the lawyer this time, he would have remained in doubt and
unease and eventually have carried out his decision after a while anyway
as this decision was something he could not avoid. The sooner it was
carried out the more harm would be avoided. And moreover, perhaps the
businessman had something to say on the matter.

K. turned round, the businessman hardly noticed it as he was about
to stand up. "Stay where you are," said K. and pulled up a chair beside
him. "Have you been a client of the lawyer's for a long time?" asked K.
"Yes," said the businessman, "a very long time." "How many years has he
been representing you so far, then?" asked K. "I don't know how you
mean," said the businessman, "he's been my business lawyer - I buy and
sell cereals - he's been my business lawyer since I took the business
over, and that's about twenty years now, but perhaps you mean my own
trial and he's been representing me in that since it started, and that's
been more than five years. Yes, well over five years," he then added,
pulling out an old briefcase, "I've got everything written down; I can
tell you the exact dates if you like. It's so hard to remember
everything. Probably, my trial's been going on much longer than that,
it started soon after the death of my wife, and that's been more than
five and a half years now." K. moved in closer to him. "So the lawyer
takes on ordinary legal business, does he?" he asked. This combination
of criminal and commercial business seemed surprisingly reassuring for
K. "Oh yes," said the businessman, and then he whispered, "They even
say he's more efficient in jurisprudence than he is in other matters."
But then he seemed to regret saying this, and he laid a hand on K.'s
shoulder and said, "Please don't betray me to him, will you." K. patted
his thigh to reassure him and said, "No, I don't betray people." "He
can be so vindictive, you see," said the businessman.
"I'm sure he won't do anything against such a faithful client as you,"
said K. "Oh, he might do," said the businessman, "when he gets cross it
doesn't matter who it is, and anyway, I'm not really faithful to him."
"How's that then?" asked K. "I'm not sure I should tell you about it,"
said the businessman hesitantly. "I think it'll be alright," said K.
"Well then," said the businessman, "I'll tell you about some of it, but
you'll have to tell me a secret too, then we can support each other with
the lawyer." "You are very careful," said K., "but I'll tell you a
secret that will set your mind completely at ease. Now tell me, in what
way have you been unfaithful to the lawyer?" "I've ..." said the
businessman hesitantly, and in a tone as if he were confessing something
dishonourable, "I've taken on other lawyers besides him." "That's not
so serious," said K., a little disappointed. "It is, here," said the
businessman, who had had some difficulty breathing since making his
confession but who now, after hearing K.'s comment, began to feel more
trust for him. "That's not allowed. And it's allowed least of all to
take on petty lawyers when you've already got a proper one. And that's
just what I have done, besides him I've got five petty lawyers."
"Five!" exclaimed K., astonished at this number, "Five lawyers besides
this one?" The businessman nodded. "I'm even negotiating with a sixth
one." "But why do you need so many lawyers?" asked K. "I need all of
them," said the businessman. "Would you mind explaining that to me?"
asked K. "I'd be glad to," said the businessman. "Most of all, I don't
want to lose my case, well that's obvious. So that means I mustn't
neglect anything that might be of use to me; even if there's very little
hope of a particular thing being of any use I can't just throw it away.
So everything I have I've put to use in my case. I've taken all the
money out of my business, for example, the offices for my business used
to occupy nearly a whole floor, but now all I need is a little room at
the back where I work with one apprentice. It wasn't just using up the
money that caused the difficulty, of course, it was much more to do with
me not working at the business as much as I used to. If you want to do
something about your trial you don't have much time for anything else."
"So you're also working at the court yourself?" asked K. "That's just
what I want to learn more about." "I can't tell you very much about
that," said the businessman, "at first I tried to do that too but I soon
had to give it up again. It wears you out too much, and it's really not
much use. And it turned out to be quite impossible to work there
yourself and to negotiate, at least for me it was. It's a heavy strain
there just sitting and waiting. You know yourself what the air is like
in those offices." "How do you know I've been there, then?" asked K.
"I was in the waiting room myself when you went through." "What a
coincidence that is!" exclaimed K., totally engrossed and forgetting how
ridiculous the businessman had seemed to him earlier. "So you saw me!
You were in the waiting room when I went through. Yes, I did go through
it one time." "It isn't such a big coincidence," said the businessman,
"I'm there nearly every day." "I expect I'll have to go there quite
often myself now," said K., "although I can hardly expect to be shown
the same respect as I was then. They all stood up for me. They must
have thought I was a judge." "No," said the businessman, "we were
greeting the servant of the court. We knew you were a defendant. That
sort of news spreads very quickly." "So you already knew about that,"
said K., "the way I behaved must have seemed very arrogant to you. Did
you criticise me for it afterwards?" "No," said the businessman, "quite
the opposite. That was just stupidity." "What do you mean,
'stupidity'?" asked K. "Why are you asking about it?" said the
businessman in some irritation. "You still don't seem to know the
people there and you might take it wrong. Don't forget in proceedings
like this there are always lots of different things coming up to talk
about, things that you just can't understand with reason alone, you just
get too tired and distracted for most things and so, instead, people
rely on superstition. I'm talking about the others, but I'm no better
myself. One of these superstitions, for example, is that you can learn
a lot about the outcome of a defendant's case by looking at his face,
especially the shape of his lips. There are lots who believe that, and
they said they could see from the shape of your lips that you'd
definitely be found guilty very soon. I repeat that all this is just a
ridiculous superstition, and in most cases it's completely disproved by
the facts, but when you live in that society it's hard to hold yourself
back from beliefs like that. Just think how much effect that
superstition can have. You spoke to one of them there, didn't you? He
was hardly able to give you an answer. There are lots of things there
that can make you confused, of course, but one of them, for him, was the
appearance of your lips. He told us all later he thought he could see
something in your lips that meant he'd be convicted himself." "On my
lips?" asked K., pulling out a pocket mirror and examining himself. "I
can see nothing special about my lips. Can you?" "Nor can I," said the
businessman, "nothing at all." "These people are so superstitious!"
exclaimed K. "Isn't that what I just told you?" asked the businessman.
"Do you then have that much contact with each other, exchanging each
other's opinions?" said K. "I've kept myself completely apart so far."
"They don't normally have much contact with each other," said the
businessman, "that would be impossible, there are so many of them. And
they don't have much in common either. If a group of them ever thinks
they have found something in common it soon turns out they were
mistaken. There's nothing you can do as a group where the court's
concerned. Each case is examined separately, the court is very
painstaking. So there's nothing to be achieved by forming into a group,
only sometimes an individual will achieve something in secret; and it's
only when that's been done the others learn about it; nobody knows how
it was done. So there's no sense of togetherness, you meet people now
and then in the waiting rooms, but we don't talk much there. The
superstitious beliefs were established a long time ago and they spread
all by themselves." "I saw those gentlemen in the waiting room," said
K., "it seemed so pointless for them to be waiting in that way."
"Waiting is not pointless," said the businessman, "it's only pointless
if you try and interfere yourself. I told you just now I've got five
lawyers besides this one. You might think - I thought it myself at
first - you might think I could leave the whole thing entirely up to
them now. That would be entirely wrong. I can leave it up to them less
than when I had just the one. Maybe you don't understand that, do you?"
"No," said K., and to slow the businessman down, who had been speaking
too fast, he laid his hand on the businessman's to reassure him, "but
I'd like just to ask you to speak a little more slowly, these are many
very important things for me, and I can't follow exactly what you're
saying." "You're quite right to remind me of that," said the
businessman, "you're new to all this, a junior. Your trial is six
months old, isn't it? Yes, I've heard about it. Such a new case! But
I've already thought all these things through countless times, to me
they're the most obvious things in the world." "You must be glad your
trial has already progressed so far, are you?" asked K., he did not wish
to ask directly how the businessman's affairs stood, but received no
clear answer anyway. "Yes, I've been working at my trial for five years
now," said the businessman as his head sank, "that's no small
achievement." Then he was silent for a while. K. listened to hear
whether Leni was on her way back. On the one hand he did not want her
to come back too soon as he still had many questions to ask and did not
want her to find him in this intimate discussion with the businessman,
but on the other hand it irritated him that she stayed so long with the
lawyer when K. was there, much longer than she needed to give him his
soup. "I still remember it exactly," the businessman began again, and
K. immediately gave him his full attention, "when my case was as old as
yours is now. I only had this one lawyer at that time but I wasn't very
satisfied with him." Now I'll find out everything, thought K., nodding
vigorously as if he could thereby encourage the businessman to say
everything worth knowing. "My case," the businessman continued, "didn't
move on at all, there were some hearings that took place and I went to
every one of them, collected materials, handed all my business books to
the court - which I later found was entirely unnecessary - I ran back
and forth to the lawyer, and he submitted various documents to the court
too ..." "Various documents?" asked K. "Yes, that's right," said the
businessman. "That's very important for me," said K., "in my case he's
still working on the first set of documents. He still hasn't done
anything. I see now that he's been neglecting me quite disgracefully."
"There can be lots of good reasons why the first documents still aren't
ready," said the businessman, "and anyway, it turned out later on that
the ones he submitted for me were entirely worthless. I even read one
of them myself, one of the officials at the court was very helpful. It
was very learned, but it didn't actually say anything. Most of all,
there was lots of Latin, which I can't understand, then pages and pages
of general appeals to the court, then lots of flattery for particular
officials, they weren't named, these officials, but anyone familiar with
the court must have been able to guess who they were, then there was
self-praise by the lawyer where he humiliated himself to the court in a
way that was downright dog-like, and then endless investigations of
cases from the past which were supposed to be similar to mine.
Although, as far as I was able to follow them, these investigations had
been carried out very carefully. Now, I don't mean to criticise the
lawyer's work with all of this, and the document I read was only one of
many, but even so, and this is something I will say, at that time I
couldn't see any progress in my trial at all." "And what sort of
progress had you been hoping for?" asked K. "That's a very sensible
question," said the businessman with a smile, "it's only very rare that
you see any progress in these proceedings at all. But I didn't know
that then. I'm a businessman, much more in those days than now, I
wanted to see some tangible progress, it should have all been moving to
some conclusion or at least should have been moving on in some way
according to the rules. Instead of which there were just more hearings,
and most of them went through the same things anyway; I had all the
answers off pat like in a church service; there were messengers from the
court coming to me at work several times a week, or they came to me at
home or anywhere else they could find me; and that was very disturbing
of course (but at least now things are better in that respect, it's much
less disturbing when they contact you by telephone), and rumours about
my trial even started to spread among some of the people I do business
with, and especially my relations, so I was being made to suffer in many
different ways but there was still not the slightest sign that even the
first hearing would take place soon. So I went to the lawyer and
complained about it. He explained it all to me at length, but refused
to do anything I asked for, no-one has any influence on the way the
trial proceeds, he said, to try and insist on it in any of the documents
submitted - like I was asking - was simply unheard of and would do harm
to both him and me. I thought to myself: What this lawyer can't or
won't do another lawyer will. So I looked round for other lawyers. And
before you say anything: none of them asked for a definite date for the
main trial and none of them got one, and anyway, apart from one
exception which I'll talk about in a minute, it really is impossible,
that's one thing this lawyer didn't mislead me about; but besides, I had
no reason to regret turning to other lawyers. Perhaps you've already
heard how Dr. Huld talks about the petty lawyers, he probably made them
sound very contemptible to you, and he's right, they are contemptible.
But when he talks about them and compares them with himself and his
colleagues there's a small error running through what he says, and, just
for your interest, I'll tell you about it. When he talks about the
lawyers he mixes with he sets them apart by calling them the 'great
lawyers'. That's wrong, anyone can call himself 'great' if he wants to,
of course, but in this case only the usage of the court can make that
distinction. You see, the court says that besides the petty lawyers
there are also minor lawyers and great lawyers. This one and his
colleagues are only minor lawyers, and the difference in rank between
them and the great lawyers, who I've only ever heard about and never
seen, is incomparably greater than between the minor lawyers and the
despised petty lawyers." "The great lawyers?" asked K. "Who are they
then? How do you contact them?" "You've never heard about them, then?"
said the businessman. "There's hardly anyone who's been accused who
doesn't spend a lot of time dreaming about the great lawyers once he's
heard about them. It's best if you don't let yourself be misled in that
way. I don't know who the great lawyers are, and there's probably no
way of contacting them. I don't know of any case I can talk about with
certainty where they've taken any part. They do defend a lot of people,
but you can't get hold of them by your own efforts, they only defend
those who they want to defend. And I don't suppose they ever take on
cases that haven't already got past the lower courts. Anyway, it's best
not to think about them, as if you do it makes the discussions with the
other lawyers, all their advice and all that they do manage to achieve,
seem so unpleasant and useless, I had that experience myself, just
wanted to throw everything away and lay at home in bed and hear nothing
more about it. But that, of course, would be the stupidest thing you
could do, and you wouldn't be left in peace in bed for very long
either." "So you weren't thinking about the great lawyers at that
time?" asked K. "Not for very long," said the businessman, and smiled
again, "you can't forget about them entirely, I'm afraid, especially in
the night when these thoughts come so easily. But I wanted immediate
results in those days, so I went to the petty lawyers."

"Well look at you two sat huddled together!" called Leni as she
came back with the dish and stood in the doorway. They were indeed sat
close together, if either of them turned his head even slightly it would
have knocked against the other's, the businessman was not only very
small but also sat hunched down, so that K. was also forced to bend down
low if he wanted to hear everything. "Not quite yet!" called out K., to
turn Leni away, his hand, still resting on the businessman's hand,
twitching with impatience. "He wanted me to tell him about my trial,"
said the businessman to Leni. "Carry on, then, carry on," she said.
She spoke to the businessman with affection but, at the same time, with
condescension. K. did not like that, he had begun to learn that the man
was of some value after all, he had experience at least, and he was
willing to share it. Leni was probably wrong about him. He watched her
in irritation as Leni now took the candle from the businessman's hand -
which he had been holding on to all this time - wiped his hand with her
apron and then knelt beside him to scratch off some wax that had dripped
from the candle onto his trousers. "You were about to tell me about the
petty lawyers," said K., shoving Leni's hand away with no further
comment. "What's wrong with you today?" asked Leni, tapped him gently
and carried on with what she had been doing. "Yes, the petty lawyers,"
said the businessman, putting his hand to his brow as if thinking hard.
K. wanted to help him and said, "You wanted immediate results and so
went to the petty lawyers."
"Yes, that's right," said the businessman, but did not continue with
what he'd been saying. "Maybe he doesn't want to speak about it in
front of Leni," thought K., suppressing his impatience to hear the rest
straight away, and stopped trying to press him.

"Have you told him I'm here?" he asked Leni. "Course I have," she
said, "he's waiting for you. Leave Block alone now, you can talk to
Block later, he'll still be here." K. still hesitated. "You'll still
be here?" he asked the businessman, wanting to hear the answer from him
and not wanting Leni to speak about the businessman as if he weren't
there, he was full of secret resentment towards Leni today. And once
more it was only Leni who answered. "He often sleeps here." "He sleeps
here?" exclaimed K., he had thought the businessman would just wait
there for him while he quickly settled his business with the lawyer, and
then they would leave together to discuss everything thoroughly and
undisturbed. "Yes," said Leni, "not everyone's like you, Josef, allowed
to see the lawyer at any time you like. Do don't even seem surprised
that the lawyer, despite being ill, still receives you at eleven o'clock
at night. You take it far too much for granted, what your friends do
for you. Well, your friends, or at least I do, we like to do things for
you. I don't want or need any more thanks than that you're fond of me."
"Fond of you?" thought K. at first, and only then it occurred to him,
"Well, yes, I am fond of her." Nonetheless, what he said, forgetting all
the rest, was, "He receives me because I am his client. If I needed
anyone else's help I'd have to beg and show gratitude whenever I do
anything." "He's really nasty today, isn't he?" Leni asked the
businessman. "Now it's me who's not here," thought K., and nearly lost
his temper with the businessman when, with the same rudeness as Leni, he
said, "The lawyer also has other reasons to receive him. His case is
much more interesting than mine. And it's only in its early stages too,
it probably hasn't progressed very far so the lawyer still likes to deal
with him. That'll all change later on." "Yeah, yeah," said Leni,
looking at the businessman and laughing. "He doesn't half talk!" she
said, turning to face K. "You can't believe a word he says. He's as
talkative as he is sweet. Maybe that's why the lawyer can't stand him.
At least, he only sees him when he's in the right mood. I've already
tried hard to change that but it's impossible. Just think, there are
times when I tell him Block's here and he doesn't receive him until
three days later. And if Block isn't on the spot when he's called then
everything's lost and it all has to start all over again. That's why I
let Block sleep here, it wouldn't be the first time Dr. Huld has wanted
to see him in the night. So now Block is ready for that. Sometimes,
when he knows Block is still here, he'll even change his mind about
letting him in to see him." K. looked questioningly at the businessman.
The latter nodded and, although he had spoken quite openly with K.
earlier, seemed to be confused with shame as he said, "Yes, later on you
become very dependent on your lawyer." "He's only pretending to mind,"
said Leni. "He likes to sleep here really, he's often said so." She
went over to a little door and shoved it open. "Do you want to see his
bedroom?" she asked. K. went over to the low, windowless room and
looked in from the doorway. The room contained a narrow bed which
filled it completely, so that to get into the bed you would need to
climb over the bedpost. At the head of the bed there was a niche in the
wall where, fastidiously tidy, stood a candle, a bottle of ink, and a
pen with a bundle of papers which were probably to do with the trial.
"You sleep in the maid's room?" asked K., as he went back to the
businessman. "Leni's let me have it," answered the businessman, "it has
many advantages." K. looked long at him; his first impression of the
businessman had perhaps not been right; he had experience as his trial
had already lasted a long time, but he had paid a heavy price for this
experience. K. was suddenly unable to bear the sight of the businessman
any longer. "Bring him to bed, then!" he called out to Leni, who seemed
to understand him. For himself, he wanted to go to the lawyer and, by
dismissing him, free himself from not only the lawyer but also from Leni
and the businessman. But before he had reached the door the businessman
spoke to him gently. "Excuse me, sir," he said, and K. looked round
crossly. "You've forgotten your promise," said the businessman,
stretching his hand out to K. imploringly from where he sat. "You were
going to tell me a secret." "That is true," said K., as he glanced at
Leni, who was watching him carefully, to check on her. "So listen; it's
hardly a secret now anyway. I'm going to see the lawyer now to sack
him." "He's sacking him!" yelled the businessman, and he jumped up from
his chair and ran around the kitchen with his arms in the air. He kept
on shouting, "He's sacking his lawyer!" Leni tried to rush at K. but
the businessman got in her way so that she shoved him away with her
fists. Then, still with her hands balled into fists, she ran after K.
who, however, had been given a long start. He was already inside the
lawyer's room by the time Leni caught up with him. He had almost closed
the door behind himself, but Leni held the door open with her foot,
grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back. But he put such pressure on
her wrist that, with a sigh, she was forced to release him. She did not
dare go into the room straight away, and K. locked the door with the
key.

"I've been waiting for you a very long time," said the lawyer from
his bed. He had been reading something by the light of a candle but now
he laid it onto the bedside table and put his glasses on, looking at K.
sharply through them. Instead of apologising K. said, "I'll be leaving
again soon." As he had not apologised the lawyer ignored what K. said,
and replied, "I won't let you in this late again next time." "I find
that quite acceptable," said K. The lawyer looked at him quizzically.
"Sit down," he said. "As you wish," said K., drawing a chair up to the
bedside table and sitting down.
"It seemed to me that you locked the door," said the lawyer. "Yes,"
said K., "it was because of Leni." He had no intention of letting
anyone off lightly. But the lawyer asked him, "Was she being
importunate again?" "Importunate?" asked K. "Yes," said the lawyer,
laughing as he did so, had a fit of coughing and then, once it had
passed, began to laugh again. "I'm sure you must have noticed how
importunate she can be sometimes," he said, and patted K.'s hand which
K. had rested on the bedside table and which he now snatched back. "You
don't attach much importance to it, then," said the lawyer when K. was
silent, "so much the better. Otherwise I might have needed to apologise
to you. It is a peculiarity of Leni's. I've long since forgiven her
for it, and I wouldn't be talking of it now, if you hadn't locked the
door just now. Anyway, perhaps I should at least explain this
peculiarity of hers to you, but you seem rather disturbed, the way
you're looking at me, and so that's why I'll do it, this peculiarity of
hers consists in this; Leni finds most of the accused attractive. She
attaches herself to each of them, loves each of them, even seems to be
loved by each of them; then she sometimes entertains me by telling me
about them when I allow her to. I am not so astonished by all of this
as you seem to be. If you look at them in the right way the accused
really can be attractive, quite often. But that is a remarkable and to
some extent scientific phenomenon. Being indicted does not cause any
clear, precisely definable change in a person's appearance, of course.
But it's not like with other legal matters, most of them remain in their
usual way of life and, if they have a good lawyer looking after them,
the trial doesn't get in their way. But there are nonetheless those who
have experience in these matters who can look at a crowd, however big,
and tell you which among them is facing a charge. How can they do that,
you will ask. My answer will not please you. It is simply that those
who are facing a charge are the most attractive. It cannot be their
guilt that makes them attractive as not all of them are guilty - at
least that's what I, as a lawyer, have to say - and nor can it be the
proper punishment that has made them attractive as not all of them are
punished, so it can only be that the proceedings levelled against them
take some kind of hold on them. Whatever the reason, some of these
attractive people are indeed very attractive. But all of them are
attractive, even Block, pitiful worm that he is." As the lawyer
finished what he was saying, K. was fully in control of himself, he had
even nodded conspicuously at his last few words in order to confirm to
himself the view he had already formed; that the lawyer was trying to
confuse him, as he always did, by making general and irrelevant
observations, and thus distract him from the main question of what he
was actually doing for K.'s trial. The lawyer must have noticed that K.
was offering him more resistance than before, as he became silent,
giving K. the chance to speak himself, and then, as K. also remained
silent, he asked, "Did you have a particular reason for coming to see me
today?" "Yes," said K., putting his hand up to slightly shade his eyes
from the light of the candle so that he could see the lawyer better, "I
wanted to tell you that I'm withdrawing my representation from you, with
immediate effect." "Do I understand you rightly?" asked the lawyer as
he half raised himself in his bed and supported himself with one hand on
the pillow. "I think you do," said K., sitting stiffly upright as if
waiting in ambush. "Well we can certainly discuss this plan of yours,"
said the lawyer after a pause. "It's not a plan any more," said K.
"That may be," said the lawyer, "but we still mustn't rush anything."
He used the word 'we', as if he had no intention of letting K. go free,
and as if, even if he could no longer represent him, he could still at
least continue as his adviser. "Nothing is being rushed," said K.,
standing slowly up and going behind his chair, "everything has been well
thought out and probably even for too long. The decision is final."
"Then allow me to say a few words," said the lawyer, throwing the bed
cover to one side and sitting on the edge of the bed. His naked, white-
haired legs shivered in the cold. He asked K. to pass him a blanket
from the couch. K. passed him the blanket and said, "You are running
the risk of catching cold for no reason." "The circumstances are
important enough," said the lawyer as he wrapped the bed cover around
the top half of his body and then the blanket around his legs. "Your
uncle is my friend and in the course of time I've become fond of you as
well. I admit that quite openly. There's nothing in that for me to be
ashamed of." It was very unwelcome for K. to hear the old man speak in
this touching way, as it forced him to explain himself more fully, which
he would rather have avoided, and he was aware that it also confused him
even though it could never make him reverse his decision. "Thank you
for feeling so friendly toward me," he said, "and I also realise how
deeply involved you've been in my case, as deeply as possible for
yourself and to bring as much advantage as possible to me. Nonetheless,
I have recently come to the conviction that it is not enough. I would
naturally never attempt, considering that you are so much older and more
experienced than I am, to convince you of my opinion; if I have ever
unintentionally done so then I beg your forgiveness, but, as you have
just said yourself, the circumstances are important enough and it is my
belief that my trial needs to be approached with much more vigour than
has so far been the case." "I see," said the lawyer, "you've become
impatient." "I am not impatient," said K., with some irritation and he
stopped paying so much attention to his choice of words. "When I first
came here with my uncle you probably noticed I wasn't greatly concerned
about my case, and if I wasn't reminded of it by force, as it were, I
would forget about it completely. But my uncle insisted I should allow
you to represent me and I did so as a favour to him. I could have
expected the case to be less of a burden than it had been, as the point
of taking on a lawyer is that he should take on some of its weight. But
what actually happened was the opposite. Before, the trial was never
such a worry for me as it has been since you've been representing me.
When I was by myself I never did anything about my case, I was hardly
aware of it, but then, once there was someone representing me,
everything was set for something to happen, I was always, without cease,
waiting for you to do something, getting more and more tense, but you
did nothing. I did get some information about the court from you that I
probably could not have got anywhere else, but that can't be enough when
the trial, supposedly in secret, is getting closer and closer to me."
K. had pushed the chair away and stood erect, his hands in the pockets
of his frock coat. "After a certain point in the proceedings," said the
lawyer quietly and calmly, "nothing new of any importance ever happens.
So many litigants, at the same stage in their trials, have stood before
me just like you are now and spoken in the same way." "Then these other
litigants," said K., "have all been right, just as I am. That does not
show that I'm not." "I wasn't trying to show that you were mistaken,"
said the lawyer, "but I wanted to add that I expected better judgement
from you than from the others, especially as I've given you more insight
into the workings of the court and my own activities than I normally do.
And now I'm forced to accept that, despite everything, you have too
little trust in me. You don't make it easy for me." How the lawyer was
humiliating himself to K.! He was showing no regard for the dignity of
his position, which on this point, must have been at its most sensitive.
And why did he do that? He did seem to be very busy as a lawyer as well
a rich man, neither the loss of income nor the loss of a client could
have been of much importance to him in themselves. He was moreover
unwell and should have been thinking of passing work on to others. And
despite all that he held on tightly to K. Why? Was it something
personal for his uncle's sake, or did he really see K.'s case as one
that was exceptional and hoped to be able to distinguish himself with
it, either for K.'s sake or - and this possibility could never be
excluded - for his friends at the court? It was not possible to learn
anything by looking at him, even though K. was scrutinizing him quite
brazenly. It could almost be supposed he was deliberately hiding his
thoughts as he waited to see what effect his words would have. But he
clearly deemed K.'s silence to be favourable for himself and he
continued, "You will have noticed the size of my office, but that I
don't employ any staff to help me. That used to be quite different,
there was a time when several young lawyers were working for me but now
I work alone. This is partly to do with changes in the way I do
business, in that I concentrate nowadays more and more on matters such
as your own case, and partly to do with the ever deeper understanding
that I acquire from these legal matters. I found that I could never let
anyone else deal with this sort of work unless I wanted to harm both the
client and the job I had taken on. But the decision to do all the work
myself had its obvious result: I was forced to turn almost everyone away
who asked me to represent them and could only accept those I was
especially interested in - well there are enough creatures who leap at
every crumb I throw down, and they're not so very far away. Most
importantly, I became ill from over-work. But despite that I don't
regret my decision, quite possibly I should have turned more cases away
than I did, but it did turn out to be entirely necessary for me to
devote myself fully to the cases I did take on, and the successful
results showed that it was worth it. I once read a description of the
difference between representing someone in ordinary legal matters and in
legal matters of this sort, and the writer expressed it very well. This
is what he said: some lawyers lead their clients on a thread until
judgement is passed, but there are others who immediately lift their
clients onto their shoulders and carry them all the way to the judgement
and beyond. That's just how it is. But it was quite true when I said I
never regret all this work. But if, as in your case, they are so fully
misunderstood, well, then I come very close to regretting it." All this
talking did more to make K. impatient than to persuade him. From the
way the lawyer was speaking, K. thought he could hear what he could
expect if he gave in, the delays and excuses would begin again, reports
of how the documents were progressing, how the mood of the court
officials had improved, as well as all the enormous difficulties - in
short all that he had heard so many times before would be brought out
again even more fully, he would try to mislead K. with hopes that were
never specified and to make him suffer with threats that were never
clear. He had to put a stop to that, so he said, "What will you
undertake on my behalf if you continue to represent me?" The lawyer
quietly accepted even this insulting question, and answered, "I should
continue with what I've already been doing for you." "That's just what
I thought," said K., "and now you don't need to say another word." "I
will make one more attempt," said the lawyer as if whatever had been
making K. so annoyed was affecting him too. "You see, I have the
impression that you have not only misjudged the legal assistance I have
given you but also that that misjudgement has led you to behave in this
way, you seem, although you are the accused, to have been treated too
well or, to put it a better way, handled with neglect, with apparent
neglect. Even that has its reason; it is often better to be in chains
than to be free. But I would like to show you how other defendants are
treated, perhaps you will succeed in learning something from it. What I
will do is I will call Block in, unlock the door and sit down here
beside the bedside table." "Be glad to," said K., and did as the lawyer
suggested; he was always ready to learn something new. But to make sure
of himself for any event he added, "but you do realise that you are no
longer to be my lawyer, don't you?" "Yes," said the lawyer. "But you
can still change your mind today if you want to." He lay back down in
the bed, pulled the quilt up to his chin and turned to face the wall.
Then he rang.

Leni appeared almost the moment he had done so. She looked
hurriedly at K. and the lawyer to try and find out what had happened;
she seemed to be reassured by the sight of K. sitting calmly at the
lawyer's bed. She smiled and nodded to K., K. looked blankly back at
her. "Fetch Block," said the lawyer. But instead of going to fetch
him, Leni just went to the door and called out, "Block! To the lawyer!"
Then, probably because the lawyer had turned his face to the wall and
was paying no attention, she slipped in behind K.'s chair. From then
on, she bothered him by leaning forward over the back of the chair or,
albeit very tenderly and carefully, she would run her hands through his
hair and over his cheeks. K. eventually tried to stop her by taking
hold of one hand, and after some resistance Leni let him keep hold of
it. Block came as soon as he was called, but he remained standing in
the doorway and seemed to be wondering whether he should enter or not.
He raised his eyebrows and lowered his head as if listening to find out
whether the order to attend the lawyer would be repeated. K. could have
encouraged to enter, but he had decided to make a final break not only
with the lawyer but with everything in his home, so he kept himself
motionless. Leni was also silent. Block noticed that at least no-one
was chasing him away, and, on tiptoe, he entered the room, his face was
tense, his hands were clenched behind his back. He left the door open
in case he needed to go back again. K. did not even glance at him, he
looked instead only at the thick quilt under which the lawyer could not
be seen as he had squeezed up very close to the wall. Then his voice
was heard: "Block here?" he asked. Block had already crept some way
into the room but this question seemed to give him first a shove in the
breast and then another in the back, he seemed about to fall but
remained standing, deeply bowed, and said, "At your service, sir."
"What do you want?" asked the lawyer, "you've come at a bad time."
"Wasn't I summoned?" asked Block, more to himself than the lawyer. He
held his hands in front of himself as protection and would have been
ready to run away any moment. "You were summoned," said the lawyer,
"but you have still come at a bad time." Then, after a pause he added,
"You always come at a bad time." When the lawyer started speaking Block
had stopped looking at the bed but stared rather into one of the
corners, just listening, as if the light from the speaker were brighter
than Block could bear to look at. But it was also difficult for him to
listen, as the lawyer was speaking into the wall and speaking quickly
and quietly. "Would you like me to go away again, sir?" asked Block.
"Well you're here now," said the lawyer. "Stay!" It was as if the
lawyer had not done as Block had wanted but instead threatened him with
a stick, as now Block really began to shake. "I went to see," said the
lawyer, "the third judge yesterday, a friend of mine, and slowly brought
the conversation round to the subject of you. Do you want to know what
he said?" "Oh, yes please," said Block. The lawyer did not answer
immediately, so Block repeated his request and lowered his head as if
about to kneel down. But then K. spoke to him: "What do you think
you're doing?" he shouted. Leni had wanted to stop him from calling out
and so he took hold of her other hand. It was not love that made him
squeeze it and hold on to it so tightly, she sighed frequently and tried
to disengage her hands from him. But Block was punished for K.'s
outburst, as the lawyer asked him, "Who is your lawyer?" "You are,
sir," said Block. "And who besides me?" the lawyer asked. "No-one
besides you, sir," said Block. "And let there be no-one besides me,"
said the lawyer. Block fully understood what that meant, he glowered at
K., shaking his head violently. If these actions had been translated
into words they would have been coarse insults. K. had been friendly
and willing to discuss his own case with someone like this! "I won't
disturb you any more," said K., leaning back in his chair. "You can
kneel down or creep on all fours, whatever you like. I won't bother
with you any more." But Block still had some sense of pride, at least
where K. was concerned, and he went towards him waving his fists,
shouting as loudly as he dared while the lawyer was there. "You
shouldn't speak to me like that, that's not allowed. Why are you
insulting me? Especially here in front of the lawyer, where both of us,
you and me, we're only tolerated because of his charity. You're not a
better person than me, you've been accused of something too, you're
facing a charge too. If, in spite of that, you're still a gentleman
then I'm just as much a gentleman as you are, if not even more so. And
I want to be spoken to as a gentleman, especially by you. If you think
being allowed to sit there and quietly listen while I creep on all fours
as you put it makes you something better than me, then there's an old
legal saying you ought to bear in mind: If you're under suspicion it's
better to be moving than still, as if you're still you can be in the pan
of the scales without knowing it and be weighed along with your sins."
K. said nothing. He merely looked in amazement at this distracted
being, his eyes completely still. He had gone through such changes in
just the last few hours! Was it the trial that was throwing him from
side to side in this way and stopped him knowing who was friend and who
was foe? Could he not see the lawyer was deliberately humiliating him
and had no other purpose today than to show off his power to K., and
perhaps even thereby subjugate K.? But if Block was incapable of seeing
that, or if he so feared the lawyer that no such insight would even be
of any use to him, how was it that he was either so sly or so bold as to
lie to the lawyer and conceal from him the fact that he had other
lawyers working on his behalf? And how did he dare to attack K., who
could betray his secret any time he liked? But he dared even more than
this, he went to the lawyer's bed and began there to make complaints
about K. "Dr. Huld, sir," he said, "did you hear the way this man spoke
to me? You can count the length of his trial in hours, and he wants to
tell me what to do when I've been involved in a legal case for five
years. He even insults me. He doesn't know anything, but he insults
me, when I, as far as my weak ability allows, when I've made a close
study of how to behave with the court, what we ought to do and what the
court practices are." "Don't let anyone bother you," said the lawyer,
"and do what seems to you to be right." "I will," said Block, as if
speaking to himself to give himself courage, and with a quick glance to
the side he kneeled down close beside the bed. "I'm kneeling now Dr.
Huld, sir," he said. But the lawyer remained silent. With one hand,
Block carefully stroked the bed cover. In the silence while he did so,
Leni, as she freed herself from K.'s hands, said, "You're hurting me.
Let go of me. I'm going over to Block." She went over to him and sat
on the edge of the bed. Block was very pleased at this and with lively,
but silent, gestures he immediately urged her to intercede for him with
the lawyer. It was clear that he desperately needed to be told
something by the lawyer, although perhaps only so that he could make use
of the information with his other lawyers. Leni probably knew very well
how the lawyer could be brought round, pointed to his hand and pursed
her lips as if making a kiss. Block immediately performed the hand-kiss
and, at further urging from Leni, repeated it twice more. But the
lawyer continued to be silent. Then Leni leant over the lawyer, as she
stretched out, the attractive shape of her body could be seen, and, bent
over close to his face, she stroked his long white hair. That now
forced him to give an answer. "I'm rather wary of telling him," said
the lawyer, and his head could be seen shaking slightly, perhaps so that
he would feel the pressure of Leni's hand better. Block listened
closely with his head lowered, as if by listening he were breaking an
order. "What makes you so wary about it?" asked Leni. K. had the
feeling he was listening to a contrived dialogue that had been repeated
many times, that would be repeated many times more, and that for Block
alone it would never lose its freshness. "What has his behaviour been
like today?" asked the lawyer instead of an answer. Before Leni said
anything she looked down at Block and watched him a short while as he
raised his hands towards her and rubbed them together imploringly.
Finally she gave a serious nod, turned back to the lawyer and said,
"He's been quiet and industrious." This was an elderly businessman, a
man whose beard was long, and he was begging a young girl to speak on
his behalf. Even if there was some plan behind what he did, there was
nothing that could reinstate him in the eyes of his fellow man. K.
could not understand how the lawyer could have thought this performance
would win him over. Even if he had done nothing earlier to make him
want to leave then this scene would have done so. It was almost
humiliating even for the onlooker. So these were the lawyer's methods,
which K. fortunately had not been exposed to for long, to let the client
forget about the whole world and leave him with nothing but the hope of
reaching the end of his trial by this deluded means. He was no longer a
client, he was the lawyer's dog. If the lawyer had ordered him to crawl
under the bed as if it were a kennel and to bark out from under it, then
he would have done so with enthusiasm. K. listened to all of this,
testing it and thinking it over as if he had been given the task of
closely observing everything spoken here, inform a higher office about
it and write a report. "And what has he been doing all day?" asked the
lawyer. "I kept him locked in the maid's room all day," said Leni, "so
that he wouldn't stop me doing my work. That's where he usually stays.
>From time to time I looked in through the spyhole to see what he was
doing, and each time he was kneeling on the bed and reading the papers
you gave him, propped up on the window sill. That made a good
impression on me; as the window only opens onto an air shaft and gives
hardly any light. It showed how obedient he is that he was even reading
in those conditions." "I'm pleased to hear it," said the lawyer. "But
did he understand what he was reading?" While this conversation was
going on, Block continually moved his lips and was clearly formulating
the answers he hoped Leni would give. "Well I can't give you any
certain answer to that of course," said Leni, "but I could see that he
was reading thoroughly. He spent all day reading the same page, running
his finger along the lines. Whenever I looked in on him he sighed as if
this reading was a lot of work for him. I expect the papers you gave
him were very hard to understand." "Yes," said the lawyer, "they
certainly are that. And I really don't think he understood anything of
them. But they should at least give him some inkling of just how hard a
struggle it is and how much work it is for me to defend him. And who am
I doing all this hard work for? I'm doing it - it's laughable even to
say it - I'm doing it for Block. He ought to realise what that means,
too. Did he study without a pause?" "Almost without a pause," answered
Leni. "Just the once he asked me for a drink of water, so I gave him a
glassful through the window. Then at eight o'clock I let him out and
gave him something to eat." Block glanced sideways at K., as if he were
being praised and had to impress K. as well. He now seemed more
optimistic, he moved more freely and rocked back and forth on his knees.
This made his astonishment all the more obvious when he heard the
following words from the lawyer: "You speak well of him," said the
lawyer, "but that's just what makes it difficult for me. You see, the
judge did not speak well of him at all, neither about Block nor about
his case." "Didn't speak well of him?" asked Leni. "How is that
possible?" Block looked at her with such tension he seemed to think
that although the judge's words had been spoken so long before she would
be able to change them in his favour. "Not at all," said the lawyer.
"In fact he became quite cross when I started to talk about Block to
him. 'Don't talk to me about Block,' he said. 'He is my client,' said
I. 'You're letting him abuse you,' he said. 'I don't think his case is
lost yet,' said I. 'You're letting him abuse you,' he repeated. 'I
don't think so,' said I. 'Block works hard in his case and always knows
where it stands. He practically lives with me so that he always knows
what's happening. You don't always find such enthusiasm as that. He's
not very pleasant personally, I grant you, his manners are terrible and
he's dirty, but as far as the trial's concerned he's quite immaculate.'
I said immaculate, but I was deliberately exaggerating. Then he said,
'Block is sly, that's all. He's accumulated plenty of experience and
knows how to delay proceedings. But there's more that he doesn't know
than he does. What do you think he'd say if he learned his trial still
hasn't begun, if you told him they haven't even rung the bell to
announce the start of proceedings?' Alright Block, alright," said the
lawyer, as at these words Block had begun to raise himself on his
trembling knees and clearly wanted to plead for some explanation. It
was the first time the lawyer had spoken any clear words directly to
Block. He looked down with his tired eyes, half blankly and half at
Block, who slowly sank back down on his knees under this gaze. "What
the judge said has no meaning for you," said the lawyer. "You needn't
be frightened at every word. If you do it again I won't tell you
anything else at all. It's impossible to start a sentence without you
looking at me as if you were receiving your final judgement. You should
be ashamed of yourself here in front of my client! And you're
destroying the trust he has for me. Just what is it you want? You're
still alive, you're still under my protection. There's no point in
worrying! Somewhere you've read that the final judgement can often come
without warning, from anyone at any time. And, in the right
circumstances, that's basically true, but it's also true that I dislike
your anxiety and fear and see that you don't have the trust in me you
should have. Now what have I just said? I repeated something said by
one of the judges. You know that there are so many various opinions
about the procedure that they form into a great big pile and nobody can
make any sense of them. This judge, for instance, sees proceedings as
starting at a different point from where I do. A difference of opinion,
nothing more. At a certain stage in the proceedings tradition has it
that a sign is given by ringing a bell. This judge sees that as the
point at which proceedings begin. I can't set out all the opinions
opposed to that view here, and you wouldn't understand it anyway,
suffice it to say that there are many reasons to disagree with him."
Embarrassed, Block ran his fingers through the pile of the carpet, his
anxiety about what the judge had said had let him forget his inferior
status towards the lawyer for a while, he thought only about himself and
turned the judges words round to examine them from all sides. "Block,"
said Leni, as if reprimanding him, and, taking hold of the collar of his
coat, pulled him up slightly higher. "Leave the carpet alone and listen
to what the lawyer is saying."

This chapter was left unfinished.

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