It was in no place more than a yard wide; the
balustrading which fenced it in was in some places completely gone, a
mere glance was sufficient to show that only a very cool-headed and
extremely sure-footed person ought to traverse it. Copplestone contented
himself with an inspection from the archway; he looked down and saw at
once that a fall from that height must mean sure and swift death: he saw,
too, that Greyle had been quite right in saying that the sudden plunge of
Oliver's body through the leafy screen far beneath had made little
difference to the appearance of that screen as seen from above. And now
that he saw everything it seemed to him that the real truth might well
lie in one word--accident.
"Coming round this parapet?" asked Gilling, who was looking narrowly
about him.
"No!" replied Copplestone. "I can't stand looking down from great
heights. It makes my head swim. Are you?"
"Sure!" answered Gilling. He took off his heavy overcoat and handed it to
his companion. "Mind holding it?" he asked. "I want to have a good look
at the exact spot from which Oliver must have fallen. There's the
gap--such as it is, and it doesn't look much from here, does it?--in the
green stuff, down below, so he must have been here on the parapet exactly
above it. Gad! it's very narrow, and a bit risky, this, when all's said
and done!"
Copplestone watched his companion make his way round to the place from
which it was only too evident Oliver must have fallen.
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