I wish I could go
now, for already I seem to feel the chill of death. Oh, how cold
I shall be by this time to-morrow night!"
She shuddered as she closed the window.
After pacing her room a few moments, she exclaimed, recklessly,
"I must sleep--I must get through with the time until I bring time
to an end," and she dropped a powerful opiate into a glass.
Holding it up for a moment with a smile on her fair young face that
was terrible beyond words, she said slowly,
"After all it's only taking a little more, and then--no waking."
Chapter XXXVII. Voices of Nature.
Before retiring, Ida had unfastened her door, so that her mother,
finding her sleeping, might leave her undisturbed as late as possible
the following day; and the sun was almost in mid-heaven before she
began slowly to revive from her lethargy.
But as her stupor departed she became conscious of such acute
physical and mental suffering that she almost wished she had carried
out her purpose the night before. Her headache was equaled only by
her heartache, and her wronged, overtaxed nervous system was jangling
with torturing discord. But with the persistence of a simple and
positive nature she resolved to carry out the tragic programme that
she had already arranged.
Pages:
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415