"One needs only to be one's self."

Peter smiled. "Sometimes I dare actually to be honest with you. Even
Lonegan and I take no such liberties together."

"It isn't a matter of courage," she said. "You would dare anything. I
know your quiet, deadly kind of courage. That's the first thing I felt
about you."

It was like Mowbray not to acknowledge that such a thing had been
said.

"I came to you asleep. I wonder if I should always have remained
asleep?"

"Your words are pretty, Peter. It makes me sad that you are going
away."

"You remember that company of soldiers that passed us yesterday as we
walked? I had seen many such groups before--great shocky-haired
fellows who ate and drank disgustingly. But yesterday you made me see
that their blood is redder than the Little Father's--that empires
ripen and go to seed only on a grander scale than turnips." Her eyes
were gleaming.

"We who are so wise, who have mastered ourselves, should be very good
to the peasants--and not take what they have and kill them in wars."

"Did I lead you to believe in any way that I felt myself mastered?" he
asked quickly.