They cleaned up the mess as best they could and she went home with him docilely. She would be surrendering to all her impulses—particularly the good impulses—many of which society had condemned long since because they entailed too much trouble. Ennison, who had been standing with his back to the window, came suddenly a little further into the room. Then a roar of hisses. It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. “What did it matter?” she cried. 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. Wood—" "That's false!" cried a voice behind him.
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