I knew well enough how decisive K’s character was. I also thoroughly understood why he alone should be irresolute in this matter. In short, having grasped the general rule, I had prided myself on firmly seizing the exception, and felt quite pleased with myself. But as I chewed over and over in my mind the word “resolution” that he had spoken, my self-satisfaction gradually lost its color, and at last began to waver unsteadily. It occurred to me that perhaps even in this case he might not be an exception. I began to suspect that he might be folding away in his breast the final means of resolving all doubts, agonies, and torments at a single stroke. Looking back at the two characters for “resolution” in this new light, I was startled. Had I, with that start, once more fairly surveyed the content of the resolution he had spoken of, it might still have been well. Sad to say, I was one-eyed. I interpreted the word only as meaning that K would press forward toward the young lady. I was utterly convinced that his resolution was none other than the exercise of his decisive nature upon the field of love.
I heard with the ear of my heart a voice saying that I too needed a final decision. I at once answered that voice and roused my courage. I resolved that I must act before K, and while K knew nothing of it. I lay silent, watching for my chance. Yet two days passed, three days passed, and still I could not catch it. I had thought to broach the matter to the mistress when K was away, or when the young lady was out. But it was always one or the other being in the way, and the favorable moment when I could think “now” never came. I grew impatient.
A week later I could bear it no longer, and feigned illness. Pressed by the mistress, by the young lady, and by K himself to get up, I only gave vague replies, and lay abed beneath the covers until about ten. I waited until K and the young lady were both gone and the house had fallen hushed and still, then left my bed. The mistress, seeing my face, at once asked what ailed me. She advised me I had better lie down longer, since food could be brought to my pillow. With nothing whatever the matter with my body, I had no mind to sleep. I washed my face and ate as usual in the sitting room. The mistress waited on me from across the long brazier. Bowl in hand—neither breakfast nor luncheon—I was so troubled only with how to broach the subject that, to outward view, I suppose I looked very much the invalid in poor spirits.
I finished eating and began to smoke. Since I did not rise, the mistress could not leave the brazier’s side. She called the maid to clear the tray, then poured water into the kettle and wiped the brazier’s rim, falling in with my mood. I asked the mistress if she had some special business. She said no, and then it was her turn to ask why. I said that in fact I had something I wished to speak of. “What is it?” she said, and looked at my face. Her manner was so light it seemed quite unable to enter my mood, and I hesitated a little over what I should say next.
With no choice, I wandered vaguely in words, and at last asked the mistress whether K had lately said anything. The mistress looked as if this were the last thing she expected, and countered, “Anything about what?” And before I could answer, she asked in return, “Did he say something to you?”
