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And underneath Ranny's rooms, between the bedroom at the back and the back parlor, between the parlor and the shop, between the shop and the dispensing-room, Fulleymore Ransome dragged himself to and fro, more than ever weedy, more than ever morose, more than ever sublime in his appearance of integrity; and with it all so irritable that Ranny's children had to be kept out of his way.
For though there was nothing in his flesh and blood and muscle that suggested an inebriate father, yet in his profounder and obscurer being he was Fulleymore Ransome's son. The secret instability that made Fulleymore Ransome drink had had its effect on Ranny's nervous system. His nerves, though he was not aware of it, were finely woven and highly strung.
"Sleepin' draughts, heart mixture, nerve tonic, stomach mixture, and so forth." "And he can tell you," said Mr. Randall, "to a month's bookin' what meddycine he'll sell." "What's more," said the chemist, with a sinister intonation, "I can tell who'll want 'em." "Can you reelly now?" said Mrs. Randall. "Why, Fulleymore, you should have been a doctor. Shouldn't he, Emmy?" Mrs.
"I say, you know; how did you get hold of that?" "Why Winny told me." In the strangeness of it all he had forgotten Winny. "Then she told you wrong. Now I think of it, Winny doesn't know my real name. My real name would take your breath away." "Tell it me." "Well if you will have it stand well back and hold your hat on. Don't let it catch you full in the face. John Randall Fulleymore Ransome.
And John Randall indeed lent him thirty pounds; but not willingly. His reluctance, however, was sufficiently explained by the fact that he had recently advanced more than that sum to Fulleymore. He was careful to point out to Randall that he was helping him to meet only those catastrophes which might be regarded as the act of God Violet's bills and the deterioration of Granville.
None of us ever knew nor ever will know, now." "He was a good man, Emmy, and a kind man and just. I never knew any one more just than Fulleymore. We were saying so only last night, weren't we?" "Yes, John," said Mrs. Randall. "We were saying you could always depend upon his word. And, as you say, there were things in him we never knew and never shall know."
In her youth the draper's daughter had been dazzled by Mr. Ransome, by his attainments, his position, his distinction. Fulleymore Ransome had about him the small refinement of the suburban shopkeeper, made finer by the intellectual processes that had turned him out a Pharmaceutical Chemist.
And he slammed the door on himself. "On Sunday evenin'," said his son, imperturbably, as if there had been no interruption, "eight-thirty to eleven, at his residence, High Street, Wandsworth, Mr. Fulleymore Ransome will give an Entertainment. Humorous Impersonations: Mr. F. Ransome. Step Dancin': Mr. F. Ransome. Ladies are requested to remove their hats. Song: Put Me Among the Girls, Mr.
And she was more than ever there after April of nineteen-seven, when the little son was born. The little son that they called Stanley Fulleymore. When he came more and more of Ranny's savings had to go. He didn't care. For he had gone again through deep anguish, again believing that Violet would die, that she couldn't possibly get over it. And she had got over it; beautifully, the doctor said.
The new Drug Stores over the way were drawing all the business from Fulleymore Ransome's little shop. Even with the assistance of the young man, Mr. Ponting, Fulleymore Ransome was not in a state to hold his own. But John Randall, the draper, if you like, was prosperous. He might be willing, Ransome thought, to lend him the money, or a part of it, at a fair rate of interest.
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