It turns me from bright to black, from lightness of spirits to
extreme sulkiness. I have done more wickedness over this third tumbler
than in all the other states of comparative inebriety within my
experience. So now I glowered at my companion and rapped out a curse.
"Look here, I don't want to hear any more of Adolphus, and I've a
pretty clear notion of the game you're playing. You want to make me
drunk, and you're ready to sit prattling there till I drop under the
table."
"Do me the favor to remember that you came, and are staying, at your
own invitation. As for the brandy, I would remind you that I suggested
a milder drink. Try some Madeira."
He handed me the decanter, as he spoke, and I poured out a glass.
"Madeira!" said I, taking a gulp. "Ugh! it's the commonest Marsala!"
I had no sooner said the words than he rose up, and stretched a hand
gravely across to me.
"I hope you'll shake it," he said; "though, as a man who after three
glasses of neat spirit can distinguish between Madeira and Marsala,
you have every right to refuse me. Two minutes ago you offered to
become my butler, and I demurred. I now beg you to repeat that offer.
Say the word, and I employ you gladly; you shall even have the second
decanter (which contains genuine Madeira) to take to bed with you.
Pages:
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69