Something he liked to talk about. Don't think about it. All right.

"I met Oscar Wilde once," he said slowly. "If you know who that is. He signed my first edition of Dorian Gray and sort of looked at me sideways and left. I still have it somewhere." Next to his bed, every night. "I could sell it for millions." Though he never would. "It was quite a good day," he mused, although I was laughed at later for being so excited." He shrugged and shook his head. "Tremendously dull?"