A premeditated killing wherein the murderer makes no provision to protect himself from the sure consequences of his act, requires a certain amount of perverted courage.

Neither Mrs.Collins nor her brother credited Collins with the possession of even this low courage--at least not in sufficient degree to induce him to relinquish the comforts of freedom for the inconveniences of a prison.

So they offered no objection to his departure, permitting him to leave without a word, as though they were entirely unconcerned in what he did.
Knowing Collins intimately as they did, it was impossible to take his assumption of the role of an outraged husband seriously.

They saw, only too clearly, the ridiculous figure he made in the false light with which he had invested himself.

But when he was gone, with his threat still echoing through their brains, they began to doubt their first impression of his cowardice.
"That's a fine mess you've made of it," said Ward, who had grown palpably uneasy.
"I made the mess when I married him," replied the sister.