hold of the door handle and slammed the door.

Gregor's father staggered back to his seat, feeling his way with his
hands, and fell into it; it looked as if he was stretching himself
out for his usual evening nap but from the uncontrolled way his head
kept nodding it could be seen that he was not sleeping at all.
Throughout all this, Gregor had lain still where the three gentlemen
had first seen him. His disappointment at the failure of his plan,
and perhaps also because he was weak from hunger, made it impossible
for him to move. He was sure that everyone would turn on him any
moment, and he waited. He was not even startled out of this state
when the violin on his mother's lap fell from her trembling fingers
and landed loudly on the floor.

"Father, Mother", said his sister, hitting the table with her hand
as introduction, "we can't carry on like this. Maybe you can't see
it, but I can. I don't want to call this monster my brother, all I
can say is: we have to try and get rid of it. We've done all that's
humanly possible to look after it and be patient, I don't think
anyone could accuse us of doing anything wrong."

"She's absolutely right", said Gregor's father to himself. His
mother, who still had not had time to catch her breath, began to
cough dully, her hand held out in front of her and a deranged
expression in her eyes.

Gregor's sister rushed to his mother and put her hand on her
forehead. Her words seemed to give Gregor's father some more
definite ideas. He sat upright, played with his uniform cap between
the plates left by the three gentlemen after their meal, and
occasionally looked down at Gregor as he lay there immobile.

"We have to try and get rid of it", said Gregor's sister, now
speaking only to her father, as her mother was too occupied with
coughing to listen, "it'll be the death of both of you, I can see it
coming. We can't all work as hard as we have to and then come home
to be tortured like this, we can't endure it. I can't endure it any
more." And she broke out so heavily in tears that they flowed down
the face of her mother, and she wiped them away with mechanical hand
movements.

"My child", said her father with sympathy and obvious understanding,
"what are we to do?"

His sister just shrugged her shoulders as a sign of the helplessness
and tears that had taken hold of her, displacing her earlier
certainty.

"If he could just understand us", said his father almost as a
q