At the time of her marriage Rita was hopelessly in the toils, and had been really panic-stricken at the prospect—­once so golden—­of a protracted sojourn abroad.  The war, which rendered travel impossible, she regarded rather in the light of a heaven-sent boon.  Irvin, though personally favoring a quiet ceremony, recognized that Rita cherished a desire to quit theatreland in a chariot of fire, and accordingly the wedding was on a scale of magnificence which outshone that of any other celebrated during the season.  Even the lugubrious Mr. Esden, who gave his daughter away, was seen to smile twice.  Mrs. Esden moved in a rarified atmosphere of gratified ambition and parental pride, which no doubt closely resembled that which the angels breathe.

It was during the early days of her married life, and while Sir Lucien was still abroad, that Rita began to experience difficulty in obtaining the drugs which she required.  She had lost touch to a certain extent with her former associates; but she had retained her maid, Nina, and the girl regularly went to Kazmah’s and returned with the little flasks of perfume.  When an accredited representative was sent upon such a mission, Kazmah dispatched the drugs disguised in a scent flask; but on each successive occasion that Nina went to him the prices increased, and finally became so exorbitant that even Rita grew astonished and dismayed.

She mentioned the matter to another habitue, a lady of title addicted to the use of the hypodermic syringe, and learned that she (Rita) was being charged nearly twice as much as her friend.

“I should bring the man to his senses, dear,” said her ladyship.  “I know a doctor who will be only too glad to supply you.  When I say a doctor, he is no longer recognized by the B.M.A., but he’s none the less clever and kind for all that.”

To the clever and kind medical man Rita repaired on the following day, bearing a written introduction from her friend.  The discredited physician supplied her for a short time, charging only moderate fees.  Then, suddenly, this second source of supply was closed.  The man declared that he was being watched by the police, and that he dared not continue to supply her with cocaine and veronal.  His shifty eyes gave the lie to his words, but he was firm in his resolution, whatever may have led him to it, and Rita was driven back to Kazmah.  His charges had become more exorbitant than ever, but her need was imperative.  Nevertheless, she endeavored to find another drug dealer, and after a time was again successful.

At a certain supper club she was introduced to a suave little man, quite palpably an uninterned alien, who smilingly offered to provide her with any drug to be found in the British Pharmacopeia, at most moderate charges.  With this little German-Jew villain she made a pact, reflecting that, provided that his wares were of good quality, she had triumphed over Kazmah.