I've found over the years that women want to save me. No matter how bad I am. No matter how bad they see me being--perhaps I've cast aside their friends when I've had my fun, or cheated with a handful of court wives, a new one each day--if I but show them some small hope that I might be redeemed, many, even some of the cleverest of them, the most moral, the most wise, step into my trap. It seems that the prospect of taming a dangerous reprobate who is unlikely to truly care for them is sweeter honey to some than, say, a strong and moral man like Snorri. Don't ask me why. It makes no sense to me--I just thank God for making the world this way.