- end_line
- 874
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:15.023Z
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- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 865
- text
- upon my office threshold, the door being open, for it was summer. I can
see that figure now—pallidly neat, pitiably respectable, incurably
forlorn! It was Bartleby.
After a few words touching his qualifications, I engaged him, glad to
have among my corps of copyists a man of so singularly sedate an
aspect, which I thought might operate beneficially upon the flighty
temper of Turkey, and the fiery one of Nippers.
I should have stated before that ground glass folding-doors divided my
- title
- Chunk 7