{"id":"01KG6YHA8EMGGQHA1V5MCC7P18","cid":"bafkreica57cbcg6lvbktk23sbnbetgkmlq6tzzqhsdjbk53rsuyyiu2x4u","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":1869,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:55.409Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 9","source_file":"01KG6YDDF6PTWG4P7JTS5THSTD","start_line":1791,"text":"passive mortal—you will not thrust such a helpless creature out of your\r\ndoor? you will not dishonor yourself by such cruelty? No, I will not, I\r\ncannot do that. Rather would I let him live and die here, and then\r\nmason up his remains in the wall. What, then, will you do? For all your\r\ncoaxing, he will not budge. Bribes he leaves under your own\r\npaper-weight on your table; in short, it is quite plain that he prefers\r\nto cling to you.\r\n\r\nThen something severe, something unusual must be done. What! surely you\r\nwill not have him collared by a constable, and commit his innocent\r\npallor to the common jail? And upon what ground could you procure such\r\na thing to be done?—a vagrant, is he? What! he a vagrant, a wanderer,\r\nwho refuses to budge? It is because he will _not_ be a vagrant, then,\r\nthat you seek to count him _as_ a vagrant. That is too absurd. No\r\nvisible means of support: there I have him. Wrong again: for\r\nindubitably he _does_ support himself, and that is the only\r\nunanswerable proof that any man can show of his possessing the means so\r\nto do. No more, then. Since he will not quit me, I must quit him. I\r\nwill change my offices; I will move elsewhere, and give him fair\r\nnotice, that if I find him on my new premises I will then proceed\r\nagainst him as a common trespasser.\r\n\r\nActing accordingly, next day I thus addressed him: “I find these\r\nchambers too far from the City Hall; the air is unwholesome. In a word,\r\nI propose to remove my offices next week, and shall no longer require\r\nyour services. I tell you this now, in order that you may seek another\r\nplace.”\r\n\r\nHe made no reply, and nothing more was said.\r\n\r\nOn the appointed day I engaged carts and men, proceeded to my chambers,\r\nand, having but little furniture, everything 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 It was withdrawn; and,\r\nbeing folded up like a huge folio, left him the motionless occupant of\r\na naked room.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-by, Bartleby; I am going—good-by, and God some way bless you; and\r\ntake 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 anything; he says he prefers not to; and he refuses to\r\nquit the premises.”\r\n\r\n“I am very sorry, sir,” said I, with assumed tranquillity, but an\r\ninward tremor, “but, really, the man you allude to is nothing to me—he\r\nis no relation or apprentice of mine, that you should hold me\r\nresponsible for him.”\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","title":"Chunk 9"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6YGB7ZZ4F251SWKNDDK547","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6YDDF6PTWG4P7JTS5THSTD","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG6YCG626JN4FCG8QK17CQCF","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6YHA8DKAHGJ9V74854R30Z","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6YHA8H4ETY7PGBKS969PH5","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:57.390Z","ts":"2026-01-30T07:58:03.352Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}