‘How did he know there were stairs? He cannot know it; he was senseless! Therefore he must be guessing or inquiring!’ Harold went on:
‘I suppose the Castle is on high ground. Can you see far from the windows? I suppose we are up a good height?’
‘From the windows you can see all round the promontory. But we are not high up; that is, the room is not high from the ground, though the Castle is from the sea.’ Harold asked again, his voice vibrating in the note of gladness:
‘Are we on the ground floor then?’
‘Yes.’
‘And I suppose the gardens are below us?’
‘Yes.’ The answer was given quickly, for a thought was floating through him: Why did this strong brave man, suddenly stricken blind, wish to know whether his windows were at a height? He was not surprised when his patient reaching out a hand rested it on his arm and said in an imploring tone:
‘It should be moonlight; full moon two nights ago. Won’t you pull up the blind and describe to me all you see? . . . Tell me fully . . . Remember, I am blind!’
This somehow fixed the Doctor’s thought:
‘Suicide! But I must convey the inutility of such effort by inference, not falsity.’