It was certainly so in this case.

When I looked at the white cloth upon the table, the heavy brass tray, and the silver jugs and teapot, and thought of my own cracked earthenware vessel, then reposing in a cupboard in my office, and in which I brewed my cup of tea every afternoon, I smiled to myself.

I felt that I should never use it again without recalling this meal.

After that I wondered whether it would ever be my good fortune to sit in this garden again, and to sip my Orange Pekoe from the same dainty service.

The thought that I might not do so was, strangely enough, an unpleasant one, and I put it from me with all promptness.