Was he okay? Cuthbert looked over at the man who had addressed him, slowly. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Bert couldn't place it. It annoyed him something terrible that he couldn't place it; he almost never forgot a face. He set it aside, though. It was already perfect obvious to him that his thinking had gone to razor-sharp in some parts and dull in others, that was the way of things since he'd read that book. It would pass, he told himself. It wasn't so bad as it had been at first, at least he could think on what he needed to do now and not only feel a phantom grief for a future loss.
He supposed that he was staring for a fair amount of time before he managed an answer, and even then he had to begin with an echo. 'Am I okay, sai?' Cuthbert blinked again. 'I reckon that I am. So much as I can be. It's hard to say. I mean, is a fellow ever really okay after he's gone todash through time and space to a different world? That question's proper beyond me, so it is.' He was attempting to make the words sound light, unconcerned, but they came out more bewildered.
He shook his head, tried again. 'Cry your pardon, sai, I've only been-' he searched for the most neutral-sounding phrase, '-out of town a few days, so I have, and these cars are perfect loud and there are more of them than I remember.'