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"Where is our breakfast?", the middle gentleman asked the cleaner
irritably. She just put her finger on her lips and made a quick and
silent sign to the men that they might like to come into Gregor's
room. They did so, and stood around Gregor's corpse with their
hands in the pockets of their well-worn coats. It was now quite
light in the room.

Then the door of the bedroom opened and Mr. Samsa appeared in his
uniform with his wife on one arm and his daughter on the other. All
of them had been crying a little; Grete now and then pressed her
face against her father's arm.

"Leave my home. Now!", said Mr. Samsa, indicating the door and
without letting the women from him. "What do you mean?", asked the
middle of the three gentlemen somewhat disconcerted, and he smiled
sweetly. The other two held their hands behind their backs and
continually rubbed them together in gleeful anticipation of a loud
quarrel which could only end in their favour. "I mean just what I
said", answered Mr. Samsa, and, with his two companions, went in a
straight line towards the man. At first, he stood there still,
looking at the ground as if the contents of his head were
rearranging themselves into new positions. "Alright, we'll go
then", he said, and looked up at Mr. Samsa as if he had been
suddenly overcome with humility and wanted permission again from
Mr. Samsa for his decision. Mr. Samsa merely opened his eyes wide
and briefly nodded to him several times. At that, and without
delay, the man actually did take long strides into the front
hallway; his two friends had stopped rubbing their hands some time
before and had been listening to what was being said. Now they
jumped off after their friend as if taken with a sudden fear that
Mr. Samsa might go into the hallway in front of them and break the
connection with their leader. Once there, all three took their hats
from the stand, took their sticks from the holder, bowed without a
word and left the premises. Mr. Samsa and the two women followed
them out onto the landing; but they had had no reason to mistrust
the men' intentions and as they leaned over the landing they saw how
the three gentlemen made slow but steady progress down the many
steps. As they turned the corner on each floor they disappeared and
would reappear a few moments later; the further down they went, the
more that the Samsa family lost interest in them; when a butcher's
boy, proud of posture with his tray on his head, passed them on his
way up and came nearer than they were, Mr. Samsa and the women came
away from the landing and went, as if relieved, back into the flat.

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