Renfield might not speak so freely before a third person as when he and I were alone.
I found him sitting in the middle of the floor on his stool, a pose which is generally indicative of some mental energy on his part.

When I came in, he said at once, as though the question had been waiting on his lips.

"What about souls ?" It was evident then that my surmise had been correct.

Unconscious cerebration was doing its work, even with the lunatic.

I determined to have the matter out.
"What about them yourself ?" I asked.
He did not reply for a moment but looked all around him, and up and down, as though he expected to find some inspiration for an answer.
"I don't want any souls!" he said in a feeble, apologetic way.