“Mr. Upjohn, forgive me the question; it seems necessary. Does your father—or rather did your father before he fell ill—ever walk in the direction of the grotto or haunt in any way the rocks which surround it?”
“I cannot say. The sea is there; he naturally loves the sea. But I have never seen him standing on the promontory.”
“Which way do his windows look?”
“Towards the sea.”
“Therefore towards the promontory?”
“Yes.”
“Can he see it from his bed?”
“No. Perhaps that is the cause of a peculiar habit he has.”
“What habit?”
“Every night before he retires (he is not yet confined to his bed) he stands for a few minutes in his front window looking out. He says it’s his good-night to the ocean. When he no longer does this, we shall know that his end is very near.”