powerful urge to move beyond the couch, throw himself
at his sister’s feet, and beg her for something or other good
to eat. But his sister noticed right away with astonishment
that the bowl was still full, with only a little milk spilled
around it. She picked it up immediately (although not
with her bare hands but with a rag), and took it out of the
room. Gregor was extremely curious what she would
bring as a substitute, and he pictured to himself different
ideas about that. But he never could have guessed what his
sister out of the goodness of her heart in fact did. She
brought him, to test his taste, an entire selection, all spread
The Metamorphosis
38 of 96
out on an old newspaper. There were old half-rotten
vegetables, bones from the evening meal, covered with a
white sauce which had almost solidified, some raisins and
almonds, cheese, which Gregor had declared inedible two
days earlier, a slice of dry bread, a slice of salted bread
smeared with butter. In addition to all this, she put down a
bowl (probably designated once and for all as Gregor’s)
into which she had poured some water. And out of her
delicacy of feeling, since she knew that Gregor would not
eat in front of her, she went away very quickly and even
turned the key in the lock, so that Gregor could now
observe that he could make himself as comfortable as he
wished. Gregor’s small limbs buzzed as the time for eating
had come. His wounds must, in any case, have already
healed completely. He felt no handicap on that score. He
was astonished at that and thought about it, how more
than a month ago he had cut his finger slightly with a
knife and how this wound had hurt enough even the day
before yesterday.