At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. A large body of the constables of Westminster next made their appearance, the chief of whom entered the Lodge, where they were speedily joined by the civic authorities. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. ‘You wish a reason for jealousy? Eh bien, you may have it. Habits and tastes are no longer the same. White told me where to find you. 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.
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