] THE RAGGED EDGE BY HAROLD MACGRATH AUTHOR OF DRUMS OF JEOPARDY, ETC. ” He said. "By the avenger of his family's dishonour—by your brother," he replied, coolly. Lost ground must be regained. ” Anna smiled very faintly. She could not stir hand or foot. She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements. It was no wonder, there was no money to buy food for the house. Had this not been the case, he must have refused even to see his Frenchified granddaughter. I’m ashamed to confess it, but I didn’t want the charge of you—a too close reminder of my own lost babe.
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