The opiate has done its duty. "Yes. See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. Jack seemed glad enough to rest, his back against the wall, and closed his eyes.
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