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"What's happened to me?" he thought. It wasn't a dream. His room,

a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully

between its four familiar walls. A collection of textile samples

lay spread out on the table-Samsa was a travelling salesman-and

above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an

illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. It

showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat

upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her

lower arm towards the viewer.