the back, he seemed about to fall but remained standing, deeply bowed, and said, “At your service, sir.” “What do you want?” asked the lawyer, “you've come at a bad time.” “Wasn't I summoned?” asked Block, more to himself than the lawyer.

He held his hands in front of himself as protection and would have been ready to run away any moment. “You were summoned,” said the lawyer, “but you have still come at a bad time.” Then, after a pause he added, “You always come at a bad time.” When the lawyer started speaking Block had stopped looking at the bed but stared rather into one of the corners, just listening, as if the light from the speaker were brighter than Block could bear to look at. But it was also difficult for him to listen, as the