He can't remember. He can't always see more than a corner of the room—it appears vapourish and shadowy.
He often comes when you're in bed.
He tried to call out loudly: he shouted, 'Alec, Alec!' but he didn't get any answer. That is what puzzles him. He thinks he has shouted, but apparently he has not even manufactured a whisper.
A. M. L.—Feda, will you ask Raymond if he can remember trivial things that happened, as these things often make the best tests?
He says he can now and again.
A. M. L.—The questions that father asked about 'Evinrude,' 'Dartmoor,' and 'Argonauts,' are all trivial, but make good tests, as father knows nothing about them.
Yes, Raymond quite understands. He is just as keen as you are to give those tests.
A. M. L.—Ask Raymond if the word 'Evinrude' in connexion with a holiday trip reminds him of anything?
Yes. (Definitely.)
A. M. L.—And 'Argonauts'?