Odd thing, I'd never thought of my pa as a person.  I expect a child rarely does think of his parents that way.  They are a father and a mother, but a body rarely thinks of them as having hopes, dreams, ambitions and desires and loves.  Yet day by day pa was now becoming more real to me than he had ever been, and got I to wandering if he ever doubted himself like I did, if he ever felt short of what he wished to be, if he ever longed for things beyond him that he couldn't quite put into words.

It is wrong to believe that such men suffer in the conscience for what they do... it is only regret at being caught that troubles them.  And they never admit it was any fault of their own... it was always chance, bad luck....  The criminal does not regret his crime, he only regrets failure.