Mizzi went over and now looked still more grey and insignificant as she sat on the edge of the bed and leaned against the strong vigorous man, who put his arm round her. In the candlelight only her pinched face was cast into relief, its simple and austere lines softened by nothing but age. Hardly had she glanced at the letter when she clasped her hands lightly and said, “From Klamm.” Then they read the letter together, whispered for a moment and at last, just as the assistants gave a “Hurrah!” for they had finally got the cabinet door shut—which earned them a look of silent gratitude from Mizzi—the Superintendent said:
“Mizzi is quite of my opinion and now I am at liberty to express it. This letter is in no sense an official letter, but only a private letter. That can be clearly seen in the very mode of address: ‘My dear Sir.’ Moreover, there isn’t a single word in it showing that you’ve been taken on as Land Surveyor; on the contrary it’s all about state service in general, and even that is not absolutely guaranteed, as you know, that is, the task of proving that you are taken on is laid on you. Finally, you are officially and expressly referred to me, the Superintendent, as your immediate superior, for more detailed information, which, indeed, has in great part been given already. To anyone who knows how to read official communications, and consequently knows still better how to read unofficial letters, all this is only too clear. That you, a stranger, don’t know it doesn’t surprise me. In general the letter means nothing more than that Klamm intends to take a personal interest in you if you should be taken into the state service.”
“Superintendent,” said K. , “you interpret the letter so well that nothing remains of it but a signature on a blank sheet of paper. Don’t you see that in doing this you depreciate Klamm’s name, which you pretend to respect?”