The ragged edge. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice. The curtain came festooning slowly down, the music ceased, the lights in the auditorium glowed out, and Ann Veronica woke out of her confused dream of involuntary and commanding love in a glory of sound and colors to discover that Ramage was sitting close beside her with one hand resting lightly on her waist. “But for you Dad would never have let me marry Lescelles. I want to give myself to you. They sell only their talents, not their bodies; they are not girls of the street. The simile started a laugh in his throat.
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