- end_line
- 719
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-27T20:59:29.501Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 691
- text
- in some way or at least to find out who it was; but the door was opened
no more that night and Gregor waited in vain. The previous morning
while the doors were locked everyone had wanted to get in there to him,
but now, now that he had opened up one of the doors and the other had
clearly been unlocked some time during the day, no-one came, and the
keys were in the other sides.
It was not until late at night that the gaslight in the living room was
put out, and now it was easy to see that his parents and sister had
stayed awake all that time, as they all could be distinctly heard as
they went away together on tip-toe. It was clear that no-one would come
into Gregor’s room any more until morning; that gave him plenty of time
to think undisturbed about how he would have to re-arrange his life.
For some reason, the tall, empty room where he was forced to remain
made him feel uneasy as he lay there flat on the floor, even though he
had been living in it for five years. Hardly aware of what he was doing
other than a slight feeling of shame, he hurried under the couch. It
pressed down on his back a little, and he was no longer able to lift
his head, but he nonetheless felt immediately at ease and his only
regret was that his body was too broad to get it all underneath.
He spent the whole night there. Some of the time he passed in a light
sleep, although he frequently woke from it in alarm because of his
hunger, and some of the time was spent in worries and vague hopes
which, however, always led to the same conclusion: for the time being
he must remain calm, he must show patience and the greatest
consideration so that his family could bear the unpleasantness that he,
in his present condition, was forced to impose on them.
- title
- Chunk 2