{"id":"01KG6YGMAHGZWZ7HQZ1Y18XT63","cid":"bafkreicdg3i6lvuaiqo6zi33zxtzn2isnueizf2icxf7ffglgj3anmhsnq","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":1300,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:34.136Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG6YDD8YHX9PCQE3NTAG8XF1","start_line":1218,"text":"On the appointed day I engaged carts and men, proceeded to my chambers,\r\nand having but little furniture, every thing was removed in a few\r\nhours. Throughout, the scrivener remained standing behind the screen,\r\nwhich I directed to be removed the last thing. It was withdrawn; and\r\nbeing folded up like a huge folio, left him the motionless occupant of\r\na naked room. I stood in the entry watching him a moment, while\r\nsomething from within me upbraided me.\r\n\r\nI re-entered, with my hand in my pocket—and—and my heart in my mouth.\r\n\r\n“Good-bye, Bartleby; I am going—good-bye, and God some way bless you;\r\nand take that,” slipping something in his hand. But it dropped upon the\r\nfloor, and then,—strange to say—I tore myself from him whom I had so\r\nlonged to be rid of.\r\n\r\nEstablished in my new quarters, for a day or two I kept the door\r\nlocked, and started at every footfall in the passages. When I returned\r\nto my rooms after any little absence, I would pause at the threshold\r\nfor an instant, and attentively listen, ere applying my key. But these\r\nfears were needless. Bartleby never came nigh me.\r\n\r\nI thought all was going well, when a perturbed looking stranger visited\r\nme, inquiring whether I was the person who had recently occupied rooms\r\nat No.—Wall-street.\r\n\r\nFull of forebodings, I replied that I was.\r\n\r\n“Then sir,” said the stranger, who proved a lawyer, “you are\r\nresponsible for the man you left there. He refuses to do any copying;\r\nhe refuses to do any thing; he says he prefers not to; and he refuses\r\nto quit the premises.”\r\n\r\n“I am very sorry, sir,” said I, with assumed tranquility, but an inward\r\ntremor, “but, really, the man you allude to is nothing to me—he is no\r\nrelation or apprentice of mine, that you should hold me responsible for\r\nhim.”\r\n\r\n“In mercy’s name, who is he?”\r\n\r\n“I certainly cannot inform you. I know nothing about him. Formerly I\r\nemployed him as a copyist; but he has done nothing for me now for some\r\ntime past.”\r\n\r\n“I shall settle him then,—good morning, sir.”\r\n\r\nSeveral days passed, and I heard nothing more; and though I often felt\r\na charitable prompting to call at the place and see poor Bartleby, yet\r\na certain squeamishness of I know not what withheld me.\r\n\r\nAll is over with him, by this time, thought I at last, when through\r\nanother week no further intelligence reached me. But coming to my room\r\nthe day after, I found several persons waiting at my door in a high\r\nstate of nervous excitement.\r\n\r\n“That’s the man—here he comes,” cried the foremost one, whom I\r\nrecognized as the lawyer who had previously called upon me alone.\r\n\r\n“You must take him away, sir, at once,” cried a portly person among\r\nthem, advancing upon me, and whom I knew to be the landlord of\r\nNo.—Wall-street. “These gentlemen, my tenants, cannot stand it any\r\nlonger; Mr. B—” pointing to the lawyer, “has turned him out of his\r\nroom, and he now persists in haunting the building generally, sitting\r\nupon the banisters of the stairs by day, and sleeping in the entry by\r\nnight. Every body is concerned; clients are leaving the offices; some\r\nfears are entertained of a mob; something you must do, and that without\r\ndelay.”\r\n\r\nAghast at this torrent, I fell back before it, and would fain have\r\nlocked myself in my new quarters. In vain I persisted that Bartleby was\r\nnothing to me—no more than to any one else. In vain:—I was the last\r\nperson known to have any thing to do with him, and they held me to the\r\nterrible account. Fearful then of being exposed in the papers (as one\r\nperson present obscurely threatened) I considered the matter, and at\r\nlength said, that if the lawyer would give me a confidential interview\r\nwith the scrivener, in his (the lawyer’s) own room, I would that\r\nafternoon strive my best to rid them of the nuisance they complained\r\nof.\r\n\r\nGoing up stairs to my old haunt, there was Bartleby silently sitting\r\nupon the banister at the landing.\r\n\r\n“What are you doing here, Bartleby?” said I.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6YGC7TAYJQMM96XWAHJXEJ","peer_type":"segment","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6YDD8YHX9PCQE3NTAG8XF1","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG6YCG626JN4FCG8QK17CQCF","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6YGMAEBX369T6F0W882D61","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:34.929Z","ts":"2026-01-30T07:57:35.888Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}