"The usual way, I suppose," she replied with a laugh that sounded
harsh and grating. "I was ill and I found out what it was the
doctor was giving me."

"And then?"

"Oh, I thought I would use it only as long as it served my purpose
and, when that was over, give it up."

"But--?" prompted Craig hypnotically.

"Instead, I was soon using six, eight, ten tablets of heroin a
day. I found that I needed that amount in order to live. Then it
went up by leaps to twenty, thirty, forty."

"Suppose you couldn't get it, what then?"

"Couldn't get it?" she repeated with an unspeakable horror. "Once
I thought I'd try to stop. But my heart skipped beats; then it
seemed to pound away, as if trying to break through my ribs. I
don't think heroin is like other drugs. When one has her 'coke'--
that's cocaine--taken away, she feels like a rag. Fill her up and
she can do anything again. But, heroin--I think one might murder
to get it!"

The expression on the woman's face was almost tragic. I verily
believe that she meant it.

"Why," she cried, "if anyone had told me a year ago that the time