For a false woman's smile that he could buy, and ten like her, if he only kept straight and saving.

For a bit of sudden pride or vanity or passion.

A short bit of what looks like pleasure, against months and years of weariness, and cold and heat, and dull half-death, with maybe a dog's death at the end! I could cry like a child when I think of it now.

I have cried many's the time and often since I have been shut up here, and dashed my head against the stones till I pretty nigh knocked all sense and feeling out of it, not so much in repentance, though I don't say I feel sorry, but to think what a fool, fool, fool I'd been.

Yes, fool, three times over--a hundred times--to put my liberty and life against such a miserable stake--a stake the devil that deals the pack is so safe to win at the end.
I may as well go on.