"I would not like it at all; though, as I said before, I am not
particular."

His unwonted wordiness inspirited me. I returned to the charge.

"Well then, would you like to travel through the country collecting
bills for the merchants? That would improve your health."

"No, I would prefer to be doing something else."

"How then would going as a companion to Europe, to entertain some young
gentleman with your conversation,--how would that suit you?"

"Not at all. It does not strike me that there is any thing definite
about that. I like to be stationary. But I am not particular."

"Stationary you shall be then," I cried, now losing all patience, and
for the first time in all my exasperating connection with him fairly
flying into a passion. "If you do not go away from these premises
before night, I shall feel bound--indeed I _am_ bound--to--to--to quit
the premises myself!" I rather absurdly concluded, knowing not with
what possible threat to try to frighten his immobility into compliance.
Despairing of all further efforts, I was precipitately leaving him, when
a final thought occurred to me--one which had not been wholly unindulged
before.

"Bartleby," said I, in the kindest tone I could assume under such
exciting circumstances, "will you go home with me now--not to my office,
but my dwelling--and remain there till we can conclude upon some
convenient arrangement for you at our leisure? Come, let us start now,