Ye've faught yer lasht round, if ye ain't a fool!" He had been a fool.

He had imagined that he could control himself, and practise the moderation that other men practised when they chose.

The puerile restraint annoyed him; his implied inability to master himself humiliated him, the more so because, secretly, he was horribly afraid in the remote depths of his heart.
Exactly how it happened he did not remember, except that he had gone down town on business and had lunched with several men.

There was claret.

Later he remembered another cafe, farther up town, and another, more brilliantly lighted.