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I suppose most of our daughters would marry organ-grinders if they had a chance—at that age. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. \"I'm sorry, Larry. 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. “Come on in, Michelle. We just hit against each other, and here we are flying off at a tangent, a little surprised at what we are doing, all our principles abandoned, and tremendously and quite unreasonably proud of ourselves. “Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill. “Before you do anything else I should advise you to secure those charred fragments of paper from the grate. They were Jonathan Wild and Quilt Arnold. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. You would steal from me then the only man I ever cared a snap of the fingers about. “I suppose, Mr.
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