then, looking through the gaps where the walls didn’t reach the ceiling, K. saw tousled morning heads appear, only to disappear next minute. In the distance, a small trolley laden with files was being slowly pushed along by a servant. A second servant walked beside him with a list in his hand, obviously comparing the numbers on the doors with numbers on the files. The trolley stopped outside most of the doors, and then usually the door was opened and the relevant files handed into the room, or sometimes just a note—in such cases a little conversation would go on between the room and the corridor, probably a gentleman telling the servant off. If the door stayed closed its files were carefully piled up just outside it. When that happened it seemed to K. as if the movement of the doors around him was no less, although the files had been distributed, but even increased. Perhaps the others were looking longingly at the files which were lying outside the door and, for some incomprehensible reason, hadn’t been taken in yet; they couldn’t understand how someone who had only to open his door to lay hands on his files didn’t do so. Perhaps it was even possible that files which remained lying about would be distributed later to the other gentlemen, who were already looking out at frequent intervals to see whether the files were still outside the door, meaning that there was still hope for themselves. Furthermore, the files left lying there were usually in particularly large bundles, and K. assumed that they had been left where they were for now either out of a certain malicious desire to show off, or for motives of well-justified pride intended to encourage the col-leagues of the gentleman in the room. He was confirmed in this assumption by the fact that sometimes—always when he didn’t hap-pen to be looking—after the stack of files had been on show long enough, it was suddenly and very quickly snapped up and taken into the room, and the door then remained closed as before. The doors all around calmed down at that point, either disappointed or pleased to see that such a provocative item had finally been removed, but then they slowly began moving again.

K. saw all this with interest as well as curiosity. He felt almost happy in the midst of this stir and bustle, looking this way and that, following the servants, though keeping a suitable distance behind, and indeed they had often turned to look at him with a stern glance, lowered heads, and pouting lips, as he observed their work of distribution. The longer it lasted the less smoothly did it go; either the list wasn’t perfectly accurate, or the servants couldn’t always tell one file from another very well, or the gentlemen made objections for other rea-sons, but at any rate, it turned out that many of the files already distributed had to be returned, and then the little trolley went back and negotiations about the return of the files took place through the crack where the door stood ajar. These negotiations themselves were full of problems, but it quite often happened that when something had to be returned, doors that had been in the liveliest movement earlier were now firmly shut, as if they didn’t want to know anything about what was going on. Only then did the real problems begin. The gentleman who thought he had a claim to the files would wax extremely impatient, make a great deal of noise in his room, clapping his hands, stamping his feet, and repeatedly calling the number of a certain file out into the passage. Then the trolley was often left aban-doned. One of the servants would be busy mollifying the impatient gentleman, while the other stood outside a closed door fighting for the return of the file. Both servants had a hard time of it. Attempts to placate the impatient gentleman often made him even more impa-tient, he wouldn’t listen to the servant’s empty words any longer, he didn’t want consolation, he wanted files. One such gentleman poured a whole bowlful of water over the servant through the gap at the top of his door. But the other servant, obviously higher-ranking, had an even worse time.

If the gentleman concerned would enter into nego-tiations at all, discussions of the facts ensued, in which the servant cited his list, while the gentleman cited his notes and the actual files that he was supposed to return, but was now clutching so firmly that hardly a corner of them was still visible to the servant’s avid eyes. Then the servant had to go back to the trolley for more evidence. By now it had run on of its own accord down the slight slope of the cor-ridor, or he had to go after the gentleman who was claiming the files and exchange the protests of the gentleman currently in possession of them for a new set of counter-protests. Such negotiations went on for a very long time, and sometimes it was agreed that the gentleman would give back a part of the files, or would be given a different file in compensation, since they had only been mixed up. But it some-times happened that a gentleman had to give up all the files demanded at once, whether because the evidence produced by the servant had driven him into a corner, or because he was tired of the constant bargaining. Then he didn’t hand them to the servant but instead, with a sudden decisive gesture, threw them a long way down the cor-ridor, so that the string tying them together came off, sheets of paper flew around, and the servants had great trouble putting everything back in order. However, all this was relatively simpler than when the servant got no answer at all when he went to ask for the files back; then he stood outside the closed door, begging and pleading, citing his list, calling on the regulations, all in vain, for not a sound came from inside the room, and obviously the servant had no right to enter it without permission. Then even this model servant sometimes lost his self-control and went to his little trolley, sat down on the files, wiped the sweat from his brow, and did nothing at all for a while but dangle his feet helplessly in the air. All around him, great interest was shown in that, there was much whispering, scarcely a door remained still, and up along the tops of the walls faces, curiously enough almost entirely wrapped in scarves, followed all that was going on, but never stayed where they were for long. In the midst of all this turmoil K. noticed that Bürgel’s door had remained closed the whole time, and the servants had passed down that part of the corridor already, but no files had been handed out to Bürgel. Perhaps he was still asleep, and what with all the racket that would have meant his sleep was sound and very healthy, but why had he not been given any files? Only a very few rooms had been passed over in that way, and they were probably empty. On the other hand, there was already a new and particularly restless guest in what had been Erlanger’s room. Erlanger must have been positively driven out by him in the night, which would not have suited Erlanger’s own cool and down-to-earth nature, but the fact that he had been obliged to wait for K. in the doorway of the room suggested that such was the case.

K. kept coming back from all these other observations to the ser-vant; what he had been told about the servants in general—their laziness, the comfortable life they led, their arrogance—certainly didn’t apply to this one. There must be exceptions among the servants too, or more probably there were different groups of servants, for here, as K. noticed, there were demarcations of which he had previously seen hardly any hint. In particular he admired the unyielding determin-ation of this servant. The servant was not giving up in his battle with these obstinate little rooms—to K. it often seemed a battle with the rooms themselves, since he hardly saw anything of their occupants. He felt tired, to be sure—who wouldn’t have felt tired?—but he would soon pull himself together, slip down from the trolley, and make for the door that must be conquered, walking very erect and clenching his jaws grimly. And it could happen that he was beaten back two or three times by very simple means, simply by the dreadful silence inside the room, and yet was not overcome. When he saw that open attack was no good he tried something different, for instance, so far as K. could make out, he tried cunning. He would appear to go away from the door, letting it exhaust its powers of silence, so to speak, and turn to other doors, but after a while he would come back, call in a loud and very audible voice to the other servant, and begin piling files outside the closed door as if he had changed his mind, and there was nothing to be rightfully taken away from the gentleman, instead he was to get more files. Then he went on, but kept his eye on the door, and if the gentleman inside, as usually happened, soon cautiously opened the door to take in the new files, the servant was there in a flash, wedged his foot in the doorway, and obliged the gentleman at least