door just on her left. “There’s a little peephole there, you can look through.” “What about the others?” asked K. She curled her underlip and pulled K. to the door with a hand that was unusually soft. The little hole had obviously been bored for spying through, and commanded almost the whole of the neighbouring room. At a desk in the middle of the room in a comfortable armchair sat Herr Klamm, his face brilliantly lit up by an incandescent lamp which hung low before him. A middle-sized, plump and ponderous man. His face was still smooth, but his cheeks were already somewhat flabby with age. His black moustache had long points, his eyes were hidden behind glittering pince-nez that sat awry. If he had been planted squarely before his desk K. would only have seen his profile, but since he was turned directly towards K. his whole face was visible. His left elbow lay on the desk, his right hand, in which was a Virginia cigar, rested on his knee. A beer-glass was standing on the desk, but there was a rim round the desk which prevented K. from seeing whether any papers were lying on it, he had the idea, however, that there were none. To make it certain he asked Frieda to look through the hole and tell him if there were any. But since she had been in that very room a short time ago she was able to inform him without further ado that the desk was empty. K. asked Frieda if his time was up, but she told him to go on looking as long as he liked. K. was now alone with Frieda. Olga, as a hasty glance assured him, had found her way to her acquaintance, and was sitting high on a cask swinging her legs. “Frieda,” said K. in a whisper, “do you know Herr Klamm well?” “Oh, yes,” she said, “very well.” She leaned over to K. and he became aware that she was coquettishly fingering the low-cut cream-coloured blouse which sat oddly on her poor thin body. Then she said: “Didn’t you notice how Olga laughed?” “Yes, the rude creature,” said K. “Well,” she said extenuatingly, “there was a reason for laughing. You asked if I knew Klamm, and you see I”⁠—here she involuntarily lifted her chin a little, and again her triumphant glance, which had no connection whatever with what she was saying, swept over K. ⁠—“I am his mistress.” “Klamm’s