me.... To have let everything go, to know that nothing matters, that it
doesn't matter if you're killed, or mutilated ... Of course I want to
help, but that would be nothing without the gamble. The danger."

He stopped suddenly in his turning and held her with his shining,
excited eyes.

"War's the most romantic thing that ever happened ... False romance, my
father calls it. Jolly little romance about _him_. He'll simply make pots
of money out of the war, selling motors to the Government."

"It's rather--romantic of him to give us those two ambulances, and
pay for us."

"_Is_ it? Think of the kudos he gets out of it, and the advertisement for
Roden and Conway, the stinking paragraphs he'll put in the papers about
himself: 'His second son, Mr. John Roden Conway, is taking out two Roden
field ambulance cars which he will drive himself--'Mr. John Roden Conway
and his field ambulance car. A Roden, 30 horse power.' He makes me sick."

She saw again, with a renewal of her pang, the old man, the poor, kind
man. Perhaps he wouldn't put the paragraphs in the papers.

"False romance. He lied. There's no such thing as false romance. Romance
is a state of mind. A state of mind can't be false or true. It simply
exists. It hasn't any relation to reality. It _is_ reality, the most real
part of us. When it's dead we're dead."

"Yes."