It was plain that he was under great stress of mind.

His face was haggard, his eyes were sunken, his mouth drawn, as if he had not yet recovered from some great shock.
"Ward--Mrs.Collins!" he stammered.
The voice recalled the woman out of the dreamy state into which she had lapsed.

She scrutinized the man with eyes in which terror and suspense mingled.
"Mr.Beard--why!--something has happened!" she gave voice to her fear.
"Yes, something dreadful has occurred," he said, trying to avert his face.
A great fear shook the woman's frame.

For an instant she raised her eyes imploringly, then lowered them.
"Then he has killed him--murdered him ?" The words came as though each syllable wrenched her heart.
"Killed him ?" repeated Beard with rising inflection.

"Why, what do you mean ?" "My husband--Mr.Collins--he set out this morning to do it.