And while I contemplated the matter, I knew that they continued to recede.

The whim struck me for a moment that if a similar expansion were taking place with the whole prison, then the outer walls of San Quentin must be far out in the Pacific Ocean on one side and on the other side must be encroaching on the Nevada desert.

A companion whim was that since matter could permeate matter, then the walls of my cell might well permeate the prison walls, pass through the prison walls, and thus put my cell outside the prison and put me at liberty.

Of course, this was pure fantastic whim, and I knew it at the time for what it was.
The extension of time was equally remarkable.

Only at long intervals did my heart beat.