] THE RAGGED EDGE BY HAROLD MACGRATH AUTHOR OF DRUMS OF JEOPARDY, ETC. He had said so. Don’t you care for Nigel at all?” Anna was silent for a moment or two. Before he re-entered the prison, he hesitated from a doubt whether he was not fearfully increasing his risk of capture; but, convinced that he had no other alternative, he went on. A wild passion of shame and self-disgust swept over her. The blast once more swept over the agitated river: whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. She had unaccountable gleams of sympathy with and liking for him. . ” He declared. "So you're writing under a nom de plume, eh?" said McClintock, holding out the letter. It'll be advertised to-morrow. "No, I won't hear you, murderer," rejoined Wood.
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