Gordon was conscious--he was conscious of the oddity of his situation.
"Of course it surprised you," he said, in a moment, still looking out of the window.
"What, my dear fellow ?" "My marriage." "Well, you know," said Bernard, "everything surprises me.

I am of a very conjectural habit of mind.

All sorts of ideas come into my head, and yet when the simplest things happen I am always rather startled.

I live in a reverie, and I am perpetually waked up by people doing things." Gordon transferred his eyes from the window to Bernard's face--to his whole person.
"You are waked up?
But you fall asleep again!" "I fall asleep very easily," said Bernard.
Gordon looked at him from head to foot, smiling and shaking his head.
"You are not changed," he said.

"You have travelled in unknown lands; you have had, I suppose, all sorts of adventures; but you are the same man I used to know." "I am sorry for that!" "You have the same way of representing--of misrepresenting, yourself." "Well, if I am not changed," said Bernard, "I can ill afford to lose so valuable an art." "Taking you altogether, I am glad you are the same," Gordon answered, simply; "but you must come into my part of the house.".