Sarah’s hatred for drugs was one of the abiding passions of her life. She herself had such an unquenchable spirit within her that she could not imagine the plight of those who were compelled to indulge a fanciful morbidity with such artificial stimulants.
Once, shortly after discovering that her half-sister was taking morphine, she thrashed Jeanne with a riding-whip and locked her in her bedroom. There for four days she kept her a prisoner, denying her both food and drug in an unscientific attempt to tame her desires, which, of course, ended in failure. Despite all Sarah’s efforts, Jeanne slipped gradually down the hill and into the pit which is the inevitable fate of those who seek the bliss of this artificial paradise.
Morphine had come into general use as a medicine during the war of 1870, and many doctors and soldiers had learned to listen to its dangerous appeal. They taught its use to their women, and the alleged miracles worked by the drug became noised abroad. Its use became almost fashionable!
People who frequented the salons took it shamelessly, just as anyone else would take a glass of champagne. It was said that opium dulled your cares and finally made you forget them, but that morphine kept you conscious of them and actually made you enjoy them!
Jeanne and Damala were members of a group of morphine-takers connected with the stage, who made no secret of their vice. Damala was a fair amateur actor—it was in this direction and not diplomacy that his ambitions lay—and delighted to frequent the coulisses (as the French term the wings), the Green Room, and the other mysterious haunts which lie behind the footlights. Many were his victories in this half-world of pleasure and of work.
When Jeanne spoke of Damala to Sarah, the latter felt herself repelled and yet fascinated. Outwardly she denounced him, but inwardly she was enormously interested in this notorious man, and longed to meet him.
Unconscious of the insidious spell that was at work, enchaining their two destinies, Sarah privately determined to see this arrogant monster, this darling of the drawing-rooms, this man who was called the handsomest being since Apollo.
They met finally at the house of a friend who was curious to see what they would do when brought together.