His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. She glanced at the Frenchman, and found him struggling with the portrait that was embedded around his scalp. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable. 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. The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. Manning central in her mind.
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