The Ragged Edge. Do you promise to do this?" "Solemnly," rejoined the carpenter. He went to the door. He filled her glass with champagne. "Of course, I haven't the least evidence that the boy has done anything wrong; it's what I'd call a hunch; piecing this and that together. It was so arranged that Ruth went on duty after breakfast and remained until noon. They were in many respects so right; she clung to that, and shirked more and more the paradoxical conviction that they were also somehow, and even in direct relation to that rightness, absurd. She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette.
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