His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. I'll not speak of Jack or Jonathan. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target. 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.
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