Neville describes the flood of anxious calls after the earthquake — his sister-in-law from the east, his niece from Cincinnati, others from various areas, all unable to get through by telephone.

Neville received a letter this week from a young woman (present in the audience with her parents) describing a dream within a dream: a violent argument with her mother over combing and styling her hair, hiding in a closet where her teacher — Neville — sat silently listening; then floating over the ocean, standing on a ship's deck with her mother and stepbrother, and Neville walking on the water up to the ship, shaking hands, being kissed by her mother, saying "Do not call me homeless", and telling her parents "Last night, she heard her music."

The same friend had, a few weeks earlier, turned completely against him after a disturbance in the household, fearing him greatly and regarding him as evil - an evil spirit, an anti-Christ; her dream followed only a few days ago.

At three o'clock that afternoon Neville took a phone call from New York: Louise telling him her husband Joseph, aged 77, had died of a ruptured aorta in her arms and in the arms of their son Neville, his namesake; he could not get her off the wire and told her stories about the departed, reflecting that Joseph the couturier will wake at twenty, unchanged and uninterested in the birth from above.

A woman friend, absent that night, wrote him a letter the past week describing a vivid dream or vision of a woman with twelve daughters, eleven born maimed and one perfect virgin named Glory who bore a son whose father nobody could name until someone said 'David is the father', at which the man was struck on the head and stabbed with knives.

A lady who attends occasionally wrote Neville asking him to imagine the sale of multiple rental units she had inherited from her late husband, for $650,000; he assumed it done, and though her later thank-you letter did not say outright that she had sold it, she wrote that 'everything has worked' and 'everything that I asked of you has happened'.

A lady wrote asking him to exercise his imagination lovingly on her behalf; reading the letter in his easy chair he took about ten seconds to hear her say it had happened, and a week or two after his October 4th opening she wrote thanking him — and she is in the audience tonight.

Just before leaving for this lecture, Neville talked with an Egyptian U.C.L.A. student who sits with his wife on lecture nights and answers the phone; the student told him his father had dreamt of a friend falling dead in the street with people weeping over him, and a week later the friend dropped dead exactly so, the father seeing him ask, "What are they crying about?"

Another woman, sitting next to the first one that night, told Neville a dream of a Jewish wedding at which he was present and was to give the main speech; he spoke in his own tongue but each man heard him in his own tongue, and all but one accepted him.

A friend without a college degree wanted a promotion he was legally unqualified for; Neville told him to sleep in the assumption that he was already Purchasing Agent of Culver City, and last week the law was rearranged and he was appointed, effective in July.

Grace Roosevelt was killed instantly last week, aged about 73, in a car driven by her husband, who was unhurt; she had learned the Law from Neville but never came to his meetings because as a pillar of the Episcopal Church it would have been slumming.