Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault. 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. “She’s been up to no good, Sheila. She didn’t choose her man. He came to the door and as he opened it a crack, she pushed herself inside urgently. “For instance?” She smiled. “Well, I don’t feel like standing it. ” “Yes,” said his prospective fellow-sailor, “that’s very pretty. He turned, and beheld Winifred.
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