Neville retells a story from one of his books about a very dear artist friend, Dora B., whose father was killed leaving her untrained and working as a waitress in San Diego; on a rainy Christmas Eve on an open streetcar she hid her tears in the rain and imagined herself holding the rail of a ship coming into a South Pacific island - shortly afterwards a Chicago legal firm notified her of a $3,000 legacy from an aunt in Switzerland, and within days she was on that ship, and later described the arrival to him by letter exactly as she had imagined it.