Likely the latter.

Trained for the purpose, he decided in a blaze of wrath, Leath Macha had returned to the negro and a diet of pickets.
Kenny, swinging down the turnpike in the vigor of desperation, felt no single pang of penance.

His mood was primitive and pertinacious.

He went forward with bee-like undeviation until he found an inn where he bathed and shaved and ate.

He slept until midnight and ate again.