Then, after a period of melancholy contemplation, he undressed, put on a dressing-gown and slippers, and went softly out into the hall--to his father's door.
Upon the floor was a tray which Bibbs had sent George, earlier in the evening, to place upon a table in Sheridan's room--but the food was untouched.

Bibbs stood listening outside the door for several minutes.
There came no sound from within, and he went back to his own room and to bed.
In the morning he woke to a state of being hitherto unknown in his experience.

Sometimes in the process of waking there is a little pause--sleep has gone, but coherent thought has not begun.

It is a curious half-void, a glimpse of aphasia; and although the person experiencing it may not know for that instant his own name or age or sex, he may be acutely conscious of depression or elation.

It is the moment, as we say, before we "remember"; and for the first time in Bibbs's life it came to him bringing a vague happiness.