Bernard did remember the book and did know that, but then he wouldn't have anything to complain about, would he? He folded his arms and had a think about what he could grumble about, "Damn you for being so logical. And besides, why would I want to be stuck in some old children's book, written by a paedophile, best read whilst on lsd or some other drug which convinces you that cats are happy, hatters are mad, cards are human and can talk and that tea parties with all of the above are splendid ideas?" He was rather pleased with this particular bit of indignation and gave Sam a quizzical look. Or he gave his knees a quizzical look.