She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. She had to exert tremendous energy not to sniff the air for his blood. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. " "I understand," replied Thames; "be it as you will. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. 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. ‘Even the nuns they say I am like a devil.
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