"Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. . ” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around. ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES FROM THE PHOTOPLAY PRODUCED BY DISTINCTIVE PICTURES CORPORATION NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS THE RAGGED EDGE CHAPTER I The Master is inordinately fond of young fools. That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. I believe it amused him. Jonathan cast a hasty glance around, to see that all was properly arranged for his purpose; placed a chair with its back to the door; disposed the lights on the table so as to throw the entrance of the room more into shadow; and then flung himself into a seat to await Sir Rowland's arrival. Shotbolt nodded in token of acquiescence, and emitted an odd guttural sound. A few seconds sufficed to clear the passage, through which it had previously cost him more than two hours to force his way. “You see,” he said, “from my point of view you’re grown up— you’re as old as all the goddesses and the contemporary of any man alive. And a right set-to there were betwixt him and Mr Jarvis, I can tell you. Enjoy. Which are you—Valade or Charvill? Or, no, let me guess. ” Mr.
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