"Something else gone wrong ?" Edgar nodded.
"I'm sorry," he answered simply.

"Put on your things and come out.
You had better get it over with." In three or four minutes George left the house.

Holding himself steadily in hand, he walked through the drenched grass toward the wheat.

On reaching it, he set his lips tight and stood very still.
The great field of grain had gone; short, severed stalks, half-buried in a mass of rent and torn-up blades, covered the wide stretch of soil where the wheat had been.

The crop had been utterly wiped out by the merciless hail.