"You're telling me! Even though I'm a failure an' the unluckiest man in all of creation ... oh, and my life is worth less than half a farthing, it's still mine. I've grown rather fond of it." He holds back the waver in his voice and stares into the inky darkness with all the hot confidence of a deflated balloon.

"What do you think will get us first? Starvation?"

Was that light from above getting brighter? Nah, it had to be his imagination. His eyes were adjusting to the absence of light. Yeah, that's it.