" "For you!" exclaimed Jonathan; "don't flatter yourself that I'm thinking of you. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. 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. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. . “Everybody seems to have it now.
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