Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. 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. F. " "As many as you please, Sir Rowland," replied Jonathan, resuming his seat. You denied it at the time—but unfortunately I have proof. Shamefaced curiosities began to come back into her mind, thinly disguised as literature and art. She had told Emile. I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me.
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