A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. Brendon’s had an awful stroke of luck. She had never been to the opera before except as one of a congested mass of people in the cheaper seats, and with backs and heads and women’s hats for the frame of the spectacle; there was by contrast a fine large sense of space and ease in her present position. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. 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. My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the ruts. Without realizing what she has done, she's made a dreadful mess of it.
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