“…I came on a tall man leant to the wall with his head touching the ceiling like a Caryatide – to all appearance asleep, or resolutely trying it under most unfavourable circumstances! “Alfred Tennyson” I exclaimed in joyful surprise – Well! said he taking the hand I held out to him and forgetting to let it go again. “I did not know you were in town” said I – “I should like to know – who you are”! said he – “I know that I know you but cannot tell your name”! – and I had actually to name myself to him – Then he woke up in good earnest, and said he had been meaning and was still meaning to come to Chelsea.”
Chamberlain, K: “Jane Welsh Carlyle”, p192.