"Prefer not to," echoed I, rising in high excitement, and crossing the
room with a stride. "What do you mean? Are you moon-struck? I want you
to help me compare this sheet here--take it," and I thrust it towards
him.

"I would prefer not to," said he.

I looked at him steadfastly. His face was leanly composed; his gray eye
dimly calm. Not a wrinkle of agitation rippled him. Had there been the
least uneasiness, anger, impatience or impertinence in his manner; in
other words, had there been any thing ordinarily human about him,
doubtless I should have violently dismissed him from the premises. But
as it was, I should have as soon thought of turning my pale
plaster-of-paris bust of Cicero out of doors. I stood gazing at him
awhile, as he went on with his own writing, and then reseated myself at
my desk. This is very strange, thought I. What had one best do? But my
business hurried me. I concluded to forget the matter for the present,
reserving it for my future leisure. So calling Nippers from the other
room, the paper was speedily examined.

A few days after this, Bartleby concluded four lengthy documents, being
quadruplicates of a week's testimony taken before me in my High Court of
Chancery. It became necessary to examine them. It was an important suit,
and great accuracy was imperative. Having all things arranged, I called
Turkey, Nippers and Ginger Nut, from the next room, meaning to place the
four copies in the hands of my four clerks, while I should read from the
original. Accordingly, Turkey, Nippers, and Ginger Nut had taken their
seats in a row, each with his document in his hand, when I called to
Bartleby to join this interesting group.