But not so Manasseh.

He plundered the company without mercy, as before, and as before he and his _vis-a-vis_ were at last left sole antagonists, while the others rose from their places and gathered in groups about these two.

Manasseh still continued to win, and his opponent's supply of money ebbed lower and lower.

The loser grew furious, and drank deeply to keep himself in countenance.
"Give me a swallow of your brandy," said Manasseh, but he had no sooner tasted it than he pushed the bottle disdainfully away.

"Fusel-oil!" he exclaimed, making a wry face.