The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. So I dare say I was christened Jack. Her body rose up to meet his in a cat-like stretch and she smiled. He was way out of her league and it was downright odd that he had obliged himself to talk to her, let alone walk her home. She glanced into his face. com/E21or The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ragged Edge, by Harold MacGrath This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever.
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