The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. 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. Instinctively she had fallen into the posture of the poster, her hands behind her, her head bent slightly forward, her chin uplifted, her eyes bright with the drollery of the song. There was a sharp knocking at the outside door. Go out there and head him off, will you? Tell him anything you like, but don’t let him in, and don’t tell him Melusine is here.
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