Even madmen are often calmed by the quiet opposition of a strong and self-possessed man.

And Kafka was not mad.

He was no coward either, but the subtlety of his race was in him.
As oil dropped by the board in a wild tempest does not calm the waves, but momentarily prevents their angry crests from breaking, so the Israelite's quick tact veiled the rough face of his dangerous humour.
"I insult no one," he said, almost deferentially.

"Least of all her whom I have worshipped long and lost at last.

You accuse me unjustly of that, and though my speech may have been somewhat rude, yet may I be forgiven for the sake of what I have suffered.