He could work this thing out for himself.
The imbibation of the evening had not yet worn off.

Moist as was his brow, tremble as did his hand once after the nameless fright, he was still flushed with the fumes of liquor.

He scarcely noticed that the time was passing.

He went over his situation once again, his eye always seeing the money in a lump, his mind always seeing what it would do.

He strolled into his little room, then to the door, then to the safe again.
He put his hand on the knob and opened it.