At last Friday's meeting Neville's wife came to the door asking whose little dog had been left in a car; the poodle had escaped through an open window, the owner telephoned Neville late that night, Neville told him to sleep feeling the dog's presence in the house, and the dog was recovered.

A poor woman, told by three practitioners of different -isms in the city that she would forever have to depend on them, sends each of them money every month; Neville, whom she also calls, has repeatedly refused to take a penny from her, wanting instead to produce the change in her.

A San Francisco businessman, Bill Donovan, told Neville in person how his hatred of Jews and Negroes was destroyed when a Jewish private saved his company in New Guinea and a Negro worker saved his life from a factory fire.

Just back from New York City, he recounts how a lady came from Baltimore to a Wednesday-evening meeting last month to tell him that a friend in her office, whose purse and treasured bracelet vanished in July, had imagined wearing the bracelet daily after being given a set of Neville's books, and the purse turned up in October behind a fitting a fireman pulled from the wall during a safety inspection, with the bracelet intact and only the $1.35 change missing.

A woman told Neville a year earlier that her forty-year-old lawyer husband earned only eighty-seven dollars a week and asked whether she could use the technique on him without his knowledge; Neville told her to treble it, and last month in New York she brought the husband, now earning $300 a week, and asked Neville to help make him a judge — he told her to have her servants always refer to him as 'the judge.'

A woman not present tonight told Neville that ten days before Kennedy was assassinated she saw the headline of it, on the same coloured paper it came out on.

Neville reads out a letter from a friend who imagined his barber at the top of his profession; within a year the barber owned the shop, and after a further imaginal act he and two colleagues came back from a San Francisco styling contest with four of the nine trophies, the friend now predicting further wins in Southern California, Miami and Brussels.

A woman at his Tuesday night meeting handed him a letter, which he read about midnight; in it she described seeing a green newspaper headline 'KENNEDY SHOT' at an intersection on 12 November, dismissing it by reason, forgetting it, and then recognising it ten days later on 22 November when a co-worker slapped the same green paper on her desk.