" Gravely he watched the needle flash to and fro. “Lucy Albert. ‘You imbecile. ’ ‘Pah! You can never be Valade. “But I wanted to see you. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. “She cannot be aware,” he continued, “that she is making herself conspicuous. 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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