A police inspector accompanied by a detective and a constable now arrived. Morriston took them into the room of death. Gifford grasped Kelson's arm.
"I don't think there is any use in our staying here," he suggested. "Let us go down."
The other man nodded, and they began to descend.
"You are not going, Kelson?" Morriston cried, hurrying to the door.
"We thought we could be of no use and might be in the way,"
Gifford replied.
"Oh, I wish you would stay," Morriston urged, going down a few steps to them. "I know it is not pleasant; on the contrary it's a ghastly affair; but I should like to have you with me till this police business is over. I won't ask you to stay up here, but if you don't mind waiting downstairs I should be so grateful. I might want your advice. You'll find the rest of the party in the drawing-room."
The two could do no less than promise, and, with a word of thanks,
Morriston went back to the officials.
As the two men crossed the hall the drawing-room door opened and Miss
Morriston came out.
"Is my brother coming?" she asked.
"He will be down soon," Gifford answered in as casual a tone as he could assume.