If he remembered so much, there seemed no intrinsic reason why he should not remember more.
But his inspection was disappointing.

Not only was there not one article in the room which he knew, but he did not even understand the use of some of the things which he saw.

There was a row of what looked like small black boxes fastened to the right-hand wall, about the height of a man's head; and there was some kind of a machine, all wheels and handles, in the corner by the nearer window, which was completely mysterious to him.
He glanced through into the bedroom, and this was not much better.

Certainly there was a bed; there was no mistake about that; and there seemed to be wardrobes sunk to the level of the walls on all sides; but although in this room he thought he recognized the use of everything which he saw, there was no single thing that wore a familiar aspect.
He came back to his writing-table and sat down before it in despair.

But that did not reassure him.