For these—­Peter analysed the distinction—­are, or may be, for all alike.  There is no grabbing here; a man may share the overflowing sun not with one but with all.  The down-at-heels, limping, broken, army of the Have-Nots are not denied such beauty and such peace as this, if they will but take it and be glad.  The lust to possess here finds no fulfilment; having nothing, yet possessing all things, the empty-handed legion laughs along its way.  The last, the gayest, the most hilarious laughter begins when, destitute utterly, the wrecked pick up coloured shells upon the lee shore.  For there are shells enough and to spare for all; there is no grasping here.

Peter, with a mind at ease and Francesco grinning at his heels, sauntered down the warm, dusty road to find Thomas and have lunch.