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 friend visiting Neville's home a week ago last Sunday told him about having been in jail, where he met two confidence men who wrote a book confessing they had never been able to bilk a man who was himself incapable of bilking another.

A grandmother in the audience told Neville, just before he took the platform, how her three-year-old granddaughter Pammie imagined with eyes closed a house with a huge fireplace and two bedrooms, and later a hundred-dollar playpen full of toys, and both came about.

Neville retells the story a grandmother wrote out for him in detail: her four-year-old granddaughter Pammie imagined a stereophonic machine into the house, and had earlier imagined the house and the toy playhouse, and finally brought her divorced mother home again.

Neville recounts a seventeen-year-old boy's imaginal act (falling asleep imagining himself driving his new car); Tuesday, three days later, the boy's now-divorced father called to promise him the car.

A woman in the audience told Neville just before he took the platform that her seventeen-year-old son, denied a car by both his father and the judge in the divorce settlement, went to sleep imagining he was in his new car, and three days later the father telephoned to say he would give him the car after all.

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.

About two weeks before this lecture, a young man in his mid-twenties came to Neville's door with a heavily annotated Bible, intent on proving a point from the Book of Revelation about the number of the beast, 666. Neville used the visit to argue that the beast is not any historical figure -- not Nero, Hitler, Napoleon, or Stalin -- but represents the natural, unregenerate man in each person, since man was created on the sixth day and 666 is simply that human number carried to its highest degree.

A woman who visited Neville from Baltimore told him of a friend at her office whose purse had vanished the previous July, with a thorough office search turning up nothing; she cared far less about the dollar thirty-five inside it than a sentimentally and monetarily valuable bracelet it held. After being introduced to Neville's teaching and given a set of his books, the friend began imagining daily that she was still wearing the bracelet. The day before this account reached Neville, in October, firemen making structural safety changes in the office pulled out a fixture and found the missing purse behind it -- the loose change gone, but the bracelet still inside.