He seemed like one who had passed through some crisis, which had deprived him of much, and given him perhaps more.

It appeared probable, from his gait and air, that he was to some extent blind; but the eagerness of the eyes and the expression of the aged face were enough to suggest at once, even to an unimaginative mind, that he was looking for some vision of which he did not doubt the reality and listening for sounds which he longed to hear.
He put out a large hand and felt the table as he made his clumsy way round it.

He looked at nothing in the room but the lamp on the table where Trenholme had lately put it.

Trenholme doubted, however, if he saw it or anything else.

When he got to the other side, having wandered behind the reflector, he stopped, as if perhaps the point of light, dimly seen, had guided him so far but now was lost.
Trenholme asked him why he had come, what his name was, and several such questions.