She watched the people and hummed softly to herself. . That was the true miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast them aside for new imaginings. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came. Given the proper incentive, who could say that he might not likewise go nobly to some fine end? She thrilled. Lucy grabbed its handle, her broken bones mending inside her causing her to wince in pain. So, not exactly hopefully but earnestly, she returned to the feet of God. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation.
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