He pulled himself together with the obvious intention of being cold and fierce and judicial.

He had cornered Dune at last, he had driven him to confession, he was a fine fellow, a kind of Fate, the Supreme Judge.

.

.

this is what he doubtless desired to feel; but he wished that Dune had not played so wonderful a game that afternoon, that Dune did not now--at this moment of complete disaster and ruin--look so strangely happy, that he were himself not so utterly wretched and conscious of his own failure to do anything as it ought to be done.