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His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. It distressed and confused her that the girl should not come to her. McClintock would bang his fist upon the table. The evil in his eyes towards her was explosive. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. 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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