]
THE RAGGED EDGE
BY HAROLD MACGRATH
AUTHOR OF DRUMS OF JEOPARDY, ETC. You poor man, what have you been doing to yourself?”
“Nothing except travelling all night,” he answered. The washerwoman reported that she had seen a man one
day riding out for an early morning hunt, but was unsure
of his identity. The eldest, Constance, was lost, by the
carelessness of a servant, during her infancy, and has never since been heard of:
the youngest, Aliva, is the present Lady Trafford. Maybe half a
year, counting this summer. There was
a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence. I went off to round up his wife. She looked at him as
he fingered a small switch on the side of the helicopter’s
door. I wonder what it was. She helped him take it off. She took it for granted Ann
Veronica wore stays—mild stays, perhaps, but stays, and thought no more of the
matter.
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