He had been drunk and he was turning sober.

In spite of a great momentary appearance of frankness and a lively relish of any conjunction of agreeable circumstances exerting a pressure to which one could respond, Bernard had really little taste for giving himself up, and he never did so without very soon wishing to take himself back.

He had now given himself to something that was not himself, and the fact that he had gained ten thousand francs by it was an insufficient salve to an aching sense of having ceased to be his own master.

He had not been playing--he had been played with.

He had been the sport of a blind, brutal chance, and he felt humiliated by having been favored by so rudely-operating a divinity.