But he made no motion.
"I will leave them here then," putting them under a weight on the table.
Then taking my hat and cane and going to the door I tranquilly turned
and added--"After you have removed your things from these offices,
Bartleby, you will of course lock the door--since every one is now gone
for the day but you--and if you please, slip your key underneath the
mat, so that I may have it in the morning. I shall not see you again;
so good-bye to you. If hereafter in your new place of abode I can be of
any service to you, do not fail to advise me by letter. Good-bye,
Bartleby, and fare you well."
But he answered not a word; like the last column of some ruined temple,
he remained standing mute and solitary in the middle of the otherwise
deserted room.
As I walked home in a pensive mood, my vanity got the better of my pity.
I could not but highly plume myself on my masterly management in getting
rid of Bartleby. Masterly I call it, and such it must appear to any
dispassionate thinker.
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