Such a proceeding would in
a singular degree have the appearance of a home-thrust. It was hardly
possible that Bartleby could withstand such an application of the
doctrine of assumptions. But upon second thoughts the success of the
plan seemed rather dubious. I resolved to argue the matter over with
him again.
"Bartleby," said I, entering the office, with a quietly severe
expression, "I am seriously displeased. I am pained, Bartleby. I had
thought better of you. I had imagined you of such a gentlemanly
organization, that in any delicate dilemma a slight hint would
suffice--in short, an assumption. But it appears I am deceived. Why,"
I added, unaffectedly starting, "you have not even touched that money
yet," pointing to it, just where I had left it the evening previous.
He answered nothing.
"Will you, or will you not, quit me?" I now demanded in a sudden
passion, advancing close to him.
"I would prefer _not_ to quit you," he replied, gently emphasizing the
_not_.
"What earthly right have you to stay here? Do you pay any rent? Do you
pay my taxes? Or is this property yours?"
He answered nothing.
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