‘Unless he is himself a man of substance. Why not? Were not his own sentiments inclined in favour of the patient? But fifty gold was fifty gold. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. "Somebody ought to get hold of that young man," said Prudence, grimly, as she nodded in Spurlock's direction. . . 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. Blank it was, except for a gate near the bridgehead. . Do sit down, dear boy. .
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