XV

Seeing that with a somewhat astonished face K. remained standing where he was, Olga laughed at him and drew him towards the settle by the stove, she seemed to be really happy at the prospect of sitting there alone with him, but it was a contented happiness without a single hint of jealousy. And precisely this freedom of hers from jealousy and therefore from any kind of claim upon him did K. good, he was glad to look into her blue eyes which were not cajoling, nor hectoring, but shyly simple and frank. It was as if the warnings of Frieda and the landlady had made him, not more suspectible to all those things, but more observant and more discerning. And he laughed with Olga when she expressed her wonder at his calling Amalia good-natured, of all things, for Amalia had many qualities, but good-nature was certainly not one of them. Whereupon K. explained that of course his praise had been meant for Olga, only Amalia was so masterful that she not only took to herself whatever was said in her presence, but induced other people of their own free will to include her in everything. “That’s true,” said Olga, becoming more serious, “truer than you think. Amalia’s younger than me, and younger than Barnabas, but hers is the decisive voice in the family for good or for ill, of course she bears the burden of it more than anybody, the good as well as the bad.” K. thought that an exaggeration, for Amalia had just said that she paid no attention, for instance, to her brother’s affairs, while Olga knew all about them. “How can I make it clear?” said Olga, “Amalia bothers neither about Barnabas nor about me, she really bothers about nobody but the old people whom she tends day and night; now she had just asked them again if they want anything and has gone into the kitchen to cook them something, and for their sakes she has overcome her indisposition, for she’s been ill since midday and been lying here on the settle. But although she doesn’t bother about us we’re as