" CHAPTER XVIII. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. She had other boyfriends and hung out at Foster’s only bar most of the time. 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. Some friends who saw us dining together persist in alluding to her as Miss Annabel Pellissier. She noticed that this trunk was not littered with hotel labels. But I can't submit to hear the wellearned reputation of my friend termed an 'infamous notoriety. “I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. "I'm sure little Jack has but one friend beside myself, in the world, and that's more than I would have ventured to say for him yesterday. They do not come for me, to find me and bring me home. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. “DON’T!” she said, and wrenched her wrist from his retaining hand. "Utterly," reiterated Jack, gloomily,—"as regards all I hold dear.
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