The Ragged Edge. When the carpenter concluded his recital, Jonathan was for a moment lost in reflection. You have been seen loitering with suspicious intent in several places—Paddington, for instance—and I have no doubt at all that you were party to a break-in last week at Remenham House in Kent. The old man Pottiswick, still grumbling, much to Melusine’s disgust, had gone on his errand to his daughter’s house some two miles distant. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. “These are the sort of things that aren’t supposed to happen. “Read this, John.
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