y moment when he could afford
it, pointing out to her that her debts which he had paid had not made
this any easier for him; that in the meanwhile she need not be anxious;
that he would not follow her or molest her in any way; and that in no
circumstances would he take her back.

And now Ranny's soul and all his energy were set upon the one aim of
raising money for his divorce. It was impossible to lay his hands upon
that money all at once. He could not do it this year, nor yet the next,
for his expenses and his debts together exceeded the amount of his
income; but gradually, by pinching and scraping, it might be done
perhaps in two or three years' time.

His chief trouble was that in all these weeks he had seen nothing of
Winny. He had called twice at the side door of Johnson's, but they had
told him that she was not in; and, hampered as he was with the children,
he had not had time to call again. Besides, he knew he had to be
careful, and Winny knew it too. That, of course, would always help him,
her perception of the necessity for care. There were ways of managing
these things, but they required his mother's or his friends'
co-operation; and so far Mrs. Ransome had shown no disposition to
co-operate. Winny was not likely to present herself at Wandsworth
without encouragement, and she had apparently declined to lend herself
to any scheme of Maudie's or of Fred Booty's. With Winny lying low there
was nothing left for him but the way he shrank from, of persistent and
unsolicited pursuit.

November passed and they were in December, and he had not seen her.
After having recovered somewhat under the influence of the drug
strophanthus, he now became depressed, listless, easily fatigued.

Up till now there had been something not altogether disagreeable to Mrs.
Ransome in the misfortunes of her son. They had brought him back to her.
But he had not wanted to come back; and now she wondered whether she had
done well to make him come, whether (after all he had gone through) it
was not too much for him, realizing as he did his father's awful state.
It had gone so far, Mr. Ransome's state, that there was no way in which
it could be taken lightly.

And she was depressed herself, perceiving it. Mr. Ransome's state made
him unfit for business now, unfit to appear in the shop, above all
unfit for the dispensary. Fit only to crawl from room to room and
trouble them with the sad state of his peaked and peevish face. He
required wa