Chapter 8: VII

VII Upstairs K. ran into the teacher. The room was improved almost beyond recognition, so well had Frieda set to work. It was well-aired, the stove amply stoked, the floor scrubbed, the bed put in order, the maids’ filthy pile of things and even their photographs cleared away; the table, which had literally struck one in the eye before with its crust of accumulated dust, was covered with a white embroidered cloth. One was in a position to receive visitors now. K.’s small change of underclothe…