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Though not much passed the middle term of life, he seemed prematurely stricken with old age. Still, in spite of her glances and gestures, Mr. The Ragged Edge. It was hard to meet that gaze. ‘Come, mademoiselle. “Hey, Mike. What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. “I heard that she had chucked her show at the French places and gone in for a reform all round. You don’t know what you’re saying, and I hope you never will. I might have known it. Something in her lack of embarrassment irritated him. Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. 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. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly.
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