Through it all, however, and in spite of his anger and apprehension,
he was sorry for her. Sorry for her craven spirit. Sorry even with an
understanding that came from his own fears. Sorry for her, that she
had remained an essential child in a time that would tax the utmost
maturity. She was a child. Even her selfishness was the selfishness of
a spoiled child. She craved things, and the spirit, the essence of life,
escaped her.
And beside him was Audrey, valiant-eyed, courageous, honest. Natalie and
Audrey! Some time during the evening his thoughts took this form: that
there were two sorts of people in the world: those who seized their own
happiness, at any cost; and those who saw the promised land from a far
hill, and having seen it, turned back.