And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. You must have repented a little, or you would not have done that. Skin astonishingly clear except for a spray of blackheads on each side of her nose. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. 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.
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