Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. Anna, quitting her chair, dropped on her knees by her sister’s side and took her hand. He was unaware that his illness had opened the way to the inherent conscience and that the acquired had been temporarily blanketed, or that there was any ancient fanaticalism in his blood. Manning. 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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