] THE RAGGED EDGE BY HAROLD MACGRATH AUTHOR OF DRUMS OF JEOPARDY, ETC. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. They were only passers-by. . “Why not?” he exclaimed. ‘You have a knack of saying just the wrong thing. ’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on.
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