I told him to go to bed and try to sleep it off.

I went to bed myself.

At breakfast in the morning when George was passing a cup of coffee, I saw it tremble in his hand.

I knew by that sign that there was something on his mind.

He brought the cup to me and asked impressively, "Mr.Clemens, how far is it from the front door to the upper gate ?" I said, "It is a hundred and twenty-five steps." He said, "Mr.Clemens, you can start at the front door and you can go plumb to the upper gate and tread on one of them cigars every time." It wasn't true in detail, but in essentials it was.
The subject under discussion on the night in question was Dreams.