“It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. ‘No one would credit that you are three years older than I. I am come to serve you. . ’ ‘Eh bien, you are not a saint,’ Melusine snapped. Next instant, Gerald felt his wrist seized in an iron grip. 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. "Drink your peg; don't bother about me. It was the blouse that gave Lucy away. .
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