His position towards Israel Kafka was altogether unexpected, and what he felt was no more than pity for his sufferings and indignation against those who had caused them.
When the door was suddenly opened, he stood still in his walk and faced it.

He hardly recognised Unorna in the pale, dishevelled woman with circled eyes who came towards him under the bright light.

She, too, stood still when she saw him, starting suddenly.

She seemed to be very cold, for she shivered visibly and her teeth were chattering.

Without the least protection against the bitter night air she had fled bareheaded and cloakless through the open streets from the church to her home.
"You here!" she exclaimed, in an unsteady voice.
"Yes, I am still here," answered the Wanderer.