“What's this that I've been hearing, Josef?” cried K.'s uncle when they were alone, as he sat on the table shoving various papers under himself without looking at them to make himself more comfortable.

K. said nothing, he knew what was coming, but, suddenly relieved from the effort of the work he had been doing, he gave way to a pleasant lassitude and looked out the window at the other side of the street. From where he sat, he could see just a small, triangular section of it, part of the empty walls of houses between two shop windows. “You're staring out the window!” called out his uncle, raising his arms, “For God's sake, Josef, give me an answer! Is it true, can it really be true?” “Uncle Karl,” said K., wrenching himself back from his daydreaming, “I really don't