So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill. “I thought much of it amazingly beautiful. ] THE RAGGED EDGE BY HAROLD MACGRATH AUTHOR OF DRUMS OF JEOPARDY, ETC. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. There was a maiden aunt who lived in the North who might let her live there for a few weeks until she disappeared. Her whole conduct and tone had been modest and ladylike. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. ” She turned herself to one side and propped her head in her hand.
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