Chapter 4

Miss Bürstner's Friend

For some time after this, K. found it impossible to exchange even
just a few words with Miss Bürstner. He tried to reach her in many and
various ways but she always found a way to avoid it. He would come
straight home from the office, remain in her room without the light on,
and sit on the sofa with nothing more to distract him than keeping watch
on the empty hallway. If the maid went by and closed the door of the
apparently empty room he would get up after a while and open it again.
He got up an hour earlier than usual in the morning so that he might
perhaps find Miss Bürstner alone as she went to the office. But none of
these efforts brought any success. Then he wrote her a letter, both to
the office and the flat, attempting once more to justify his behaviour,
offered to make whatever amends he could, promised never to cross
whatever boundary she might set him and begged merely to have the chance
to speak to her some time, especially as he was unable to do anything
with Mrs. Grubach either until he had spoken with Miss Bürstner, he
finally informed her that the following Sunday he would stay in his room
all day waiting for a sign from her that there was some hope of his
request being fulfilled, or at least that she would explain to him why
she could not fulfil it even though he had promised to observe whatever
stipulations she might make. The letters were not returned, but there
was no answer either. However, on the following Sunday there was a sign
that seemed clear enough. It was still early when K. noticed, through
the keyhole, that there was an unusual level of activity in the hallway
which soon abated. A French teacher, although she was German and called
Montag, a pale and febrile girl with a slight limp who had previously
occupied a room of her own, was moving into Miss Bürstner's room. She
could be seen shuffling through the hallway for several hours, there was
always another piece of clothing or a blanket or a book that she had
forgotten and had to be fetched specially and brought into the new home.

When Mrs. Grubach brought K. his breakfast - ever since the time
when she had made K. so cross she didn't trust the maid to do the
slightest job - he had no choice but to speak to her, for the first time
in five days. "Why is there so much noise in the hallway today?" he
asked as she poured his coffee out, "Can't something be done about it?
Does this clearing out have to be done on a Sunday?" K. did not look up
at Mrs. Grubach, but he saw nonetheless that she seemed to feel some
relief as she breathed in. Even sharp questions like this from Mr. K.
she perceived as forgiveness, or as the beginning of forgiveness.
"We're not