‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. 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. In this hour its colossal selfishness never occurred to him.
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