“¿Conoces al señor Klamm?” Olga soltó una carcajada. “¿De qué te ríes?”, preguntó K. irritado. “No me río”, protestó ella, pero siguió riendo. “Olga es una criatura infantil”, dijo K. inclinándose mucho sobre la barra para atraer de nuevo la mirada de Frieda. Pero ella mantuvo los ojos bajados y rió tímidamente. “¿Te gustaría ver al señor Klamm?” K. suplicó que le dejaran verlo. Ella señaló hacia una puerta situada justo a su izquierda. “Hay una pequeña mirilla ahí, puedes mirar a través de ella”. “¿Qué pasa con los demás?”, preguntó K. Ella curvó el labio inferior y atrajo a K. hacia la puerta con una mano inusualmente
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