"Makes you sleep soundly?"
"Very."
"It was a hypodermic injection, wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"And you took it—administered it to yourself?"
"Yes."
"Do you know what it was?"
"Yes; morphine."
"A sixteenth of a grain, wasn't it? That's what is always given to tuberculars to prevent violent spells of coughing, isn't it?"
She hesitated, but finally assented.