citement; for, though his thoughts were manifestly
collected and his words were calm, he was restless and excited in other
ways. He had evidently been thinking of his own condition; for shortly
after the Doctor came in he said:
'Are we alone?'
'Quite!'
'I want you to arrange that there shall not be any nurse with me.'
'My dear sir! Don't handicap me, and yourself, with such a restriction.
It is for your own good that you should have regular and constant
attention.'
'But I don't wish it. Not for the present at all events. I am not
accustomed to a nurse, and shall not feel comfortable. In a few days
perhaps . . . ' The decided tone of his voice struck the other. Keeping
his own thoughts and intentions in abeyance, even to himself, he answered
heartily:
'All right! I shall not have any nurse, at present.'
'Thanks!' There was relief in the tone which seemed undue, and Mr.
Hilton again took mental note. Presently he asked a question, but in
such a tone that the Doctor pricked up his ears. There was a
premeditated self-suppression, a gravity of restraint, which implied some
falsity; some intention other than the words conveyed:
'It must have been a job to carry me up those stairs.' The Doctor was
doubting everything, but as the safest attitude he stuck to literal truth
so far as his words conveyed it:
'Yes. You are no light weight!' To himself he mused:
'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 fix
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