"Then give it up."
"I won't. Because it's all the heaven I have. Besides, I can do nothing without it. Without whisky my mind's a blank, my brains won't act. With it—that is, when I take the right quantity—nothing's impossible, man—nothing. Only——"
"What?"
"The right quantity increases—that's all. Good-night. When I come to remember, I shan't have the blues to-night."
"Why?"
"Why? Have I not to make my plans for conquest? I must win my wager!"
"Nonsense. You don't mean that?"
"But I do. Good-night, old man. Let me dream."
Radford Leicester remained only a few minutes after Winfield had left the room. Once he put his hand upon the bell, as if to ring for more whisky, but he checked himself.
"No," he said aloud, "I have had too much to-night already."