The Ragged Edge. Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large to pass through, Jack first tossed the bar into the room and then crept after it. Members of the crowd looked over their shoulders and stared at her through the smoky haze. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window. “Everybody is taking it up,” said Miss Miniver. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room.
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