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Supper was over. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. 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. It was a moment or two before Gerald, opening his eyes on the girl’s astounded expression, recollected himself sufficiently to pull out of the extraordinary impact she’d had on him. “TROUSERS!” she whispered. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. I don't want her hurt. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. The little pucker in her brows became more perceptible. “Why not?” “Because you are mine. Pshaw!" added he, making an effort to subdue his emotion, "I can't leave you in this way.
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