The Metamorphosis

is ill. Quick, get the doctor. Did you hear the way Gregor spoke just
now?” “That was the voice of an animal”, said the chief clerk, with a
calmness that was in contrast with his mother’s screams. “Anna! Anna!”
his father called into the kitchen through the entrance hall, clapping
his hands, “get a locksmith here, now!” And the two girls, their skirts
swishing, immediately ran out through the hall, wrenching open the
front door of the flat as they went. How had his sister managed to get
dressed so quickly? There was no sound of the door banging shut again;
they must have left it open; people often do in homes where something
awful has happened.

Gregor, in contrast, had become much calmer. So they couldn’t
understand his words any more, although they seemed clear enough to
him, clearer than before—perhaps his ears had become used to the sound.
They had realised, though, that there was something wrong with him, and
were ready to help. The first response to his situation had been
confident and wise, and that made him feel better. He felt that he had
been drawn back in among people, and from the doctor and the locksmith
he expected great and surprising achievements—although he did not