Her quick feminine eyes detected at a glance all
its squalid disorder, all its deplorable defects of comfort, all its
repulsive unfitness as a habitation for the suffering and the sick.
Surely a little money might help Zack to a better place to recover in!
Surely _her_ money might be made to minister in this way to his
comfort, his happiness, and even his restoration to health!
Full of this idea, she advanced a step or two, and sought for a proper
place on the one table in the room, in which she might put her packet
of money.
While she was thus engaged, an old newspaper, with some hair lying in
it, caught her eye. The hair was Zack's and was left to be thrown away;
having been cut off that very morning by the doctor, who thought that
enough had not been removed from the neighborhood of the wound by the
barber originally employed to clear the hair from the injured side of
the patient's head. Madonna had hardly looked at the newspaper before
she recognized the hair in it as Zack's by its light-brown color, and
by the faint golden tinge running through it. One little curly lock,
lying rather apart from the rest, especially allured her eyes; she
longed to take it as a keepsake--a keepsake which Zack would never know
that she possessed! For a moment she hesitated, and in that moment the
longing became an irresistible temptation.
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