.

And here my five children, and she embracing a musician because he has red lips! No, she is not a woman! She is a bitch, a dirty bitch! Beside the chamber of the children, whom she had pretended to love all her life! And then to think of what she wrote me! And how do I know?
Perhaps it has always been thus.

Perhaps all these children, supposed to be mine, are the children of my servants.

And if I had arrived to-morrow, she would have come to meet me with her coiffure, with her corsage, her indolent and graceful movements (and I see her attractive and ignoble features), and this jealous animal would have remained forever in my heart, tearing it.

What will the old nurse say?
And Gregor?
And the poor little Lise?
She already understands things.
And this impudence, this falsehood, this bestial sensuality, that I know so well,' I said to myself.
"I tried to rise.