The swarthy hue of his face
had in death turned almost to black, but the features, together with the
man's big, muscular figure were unmistakable. For some moments the three
men stood looking at the body in something like bewilderment, scarcely
realizing that so terrible a tragedy had been enacted in that place, amid
those surroundings.
"Suicide?" Kelson was the first to break the silence.
"Must have been," Morriston responded "or how could the door have been
locked from the inside. I will send at once for the police, and we must
have a doctor, although that is obviously useless." He went to the door,
then turned. "Will you stay here or--"
Kelson made an irresolute movement as though wavering between the
implied invitation to quit the room and an inclination not to run
away from the grim business. He glanced at Gifford, who showed no
sign of moving.
"Just as you like," he replied in a hushed voice. "Perhaps we had better
stay here till you come back."
"All right," Morriston assented. "Don't let any one come in, and I
suppose we ought not to move anything in the room till the police
have seen it.
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