But that Stefani, with his paper body, should mock him! The damned bourgeoisie! The quality of this unending calm was understandable: Gregor was always ready to die.

What to do with a man to whom death was release?
To hold the knout and to see it turn to water in the hand! In lying he had overreached.

Gregor, having accepted as fact the reported death of Ivan, had nothing to live for.

Having brought Gregor here to torture he had, blind fool, taken away the fiddler's ability to feel.

The fog cleared.
He himself had given his enemy this mysterious calm.