Jim between two questions forgot himself so far as to find leisure for a thought.

This fellow--ran the thought--looks at me as though he could see somebody or something past my shoulder.

He had come across that man before--in the street perhaps.
He was positive he had never spoken to him.

For days, for many days, he had spoken to no one, but had held silent, incoherent, and endless converse with himself, like a prisoner alone in his cell or like a wayfarer lost in a wilderness.

At present he was answering questions that did not matter though they had a purpose, but he doubted whether he would ever again speak out as long as he lived.