A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair. ’ ‘None of your sauce, Alderley,’ rejoined the general, shaking hands with Hilary who came forward to greet him. Sir John followed me to London and married me. com/E21or The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ragged Edge, by Harold MacGrath This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever.
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