And they had spoken of the Sleeper; it had not really struck him vividly at the time that he was the Sleeper.

He had to recall precisely what they had said....
He walked into the bedroom and peered up through the quick intervals of the revolving fan.

As the fan swept round, a dim turmoil like the noise of machinery came in rhythmic eddies.

All else was silence.

Though the perpetual day still irradiated his apartments, he perceived the little intermittent strip of sky was now deep blue--black almost, with a dust of little stars....
He resumed his examination of the rooms.