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She tipped his mouth towards her own and kissed him. ‘I thought, you see, that we might as well enter by the same way our intruder had done. “So Mr. The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. “I’ll be here at one in the morning. Remember?’ ‘Parbleu,’ came from his still struggling victim. It was a bogus affair altogether, kept by some blackguard or other of an Englishman. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. Down on me luck, I was, and they took me in. They put her down, and she leaped at them; she smote a helmet to the ground. I must go to work again. 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. There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner. ‘Always he is busy about my affairs. ‘One thing at a time, missie.
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