hours a day managed to get enough money to buy it.
Some years back she had been a happy wife and mother. Her husband
loved her; she was devoted to him and to their two children. She lost
him; she lost the care of her children; rapidly she drifted away from
them. The powerful narcotic helped to deaden her pain. When her
anguish became unbearable a double dose of it would enable her to
drowse away the hours.

"I will never again touch or taste morphine, so help me God!" she said.
Immediately she discontinued the use of the drug wholly. She could get
no sleep; she could not swallow food half the time or retain it. She
was beset by horrible visions. She was racked by an inexpressible
longing. But she held on. Those who knew her and watched her
agonizing battle with astonishment and sympathy told her that she was
killing herself. "It may be," she would answer, "but I shall die true
to my oath." "But," they would urge, "a habit like yours, which has
obtained for years, should be broken gradually." "I will master it. I
have blotted it from my life," she would answer. "I shall quit it this
way even if I go into the grave. It has mastered me; it has cost me my
home, husband and children; now I will master it." She started at
shadows, her nights were nights of horror; she would bury her nails in
the palms of her hands and compress her lips to keep from screaming.
There was no rest for her. Still she tried to work and grew weaker.
"You cannot give me that," she said, "I remember my oath. Give me any
medicine you choose save opium. God would forsake me now if I forsook
my promise to him." The physician remonstrated with her, but in vain,
so he gave her a substitute which failed of its effect, as he knew it
would, and she died. Even when the hand of death had clutched her
grimly, though her terrific sufferings would have been allayed by the
poison, she refused to take it. Any person in the room would have
bought it for her and administered it gladly, so that she might pass
away in peace, but she would not prove traitor to herself. She was a
friendless woman except for acquaintances recently made. Her life had
been sad and hard. Held in the grip of an enemy that set its mark upon
her, she was shunned and went her downward way alone. Those who were
with her say that just before the end came she smiled, knowing that she
had won her fight; and yet years ago she began to trifle with sin, and
it had mastered her