"... Bless you," she was saying. "May the gods bless you!"

She had seized his arm and drawn him near as he passed her chair.

He looked down into the tired face with its red-rimmed eyes. It was Luci's mother.

"She'll be all right now, I think," he said. "She's a nice little girl."

While she clung to his left arm, his right hand was taken and pumped by a thin man wearing light slacks and sweater. His weather-beaten face was split by a smile that showed a row of irregular teeth.

"Thank you so much, Mr. H," he said, his palm moist against Heidel's. "We must have prayed in every house of worship in town--and all our friends were doing it too. I guess our prayers were answered. May all of the gods bless you! --Would you care to come home with us for dinner tonight?"

"Thank you, but I really have to be going," said Heidel. "I have an appointment--something I have to take care of before my transportation arrives."

When he was finally able to draw away from them, he turned to find the lobby filling with people. Among the sounds of many voices, he heard the words "Mr. H" being spoken over and over again.

"... How did you do it, Mr. H?" came from five different directions. "--May I have your autograph? --My brother has an allergy. Will you ... ? --I would like to invite you to attend services this evening, sir. My parish ... --Can you heal at a distance? --Mr. H, would you care to make a statement for the local ... ?"

"Please," he said, turning his head from face to camera to face. "I _must_ be going. I appreciate your attention, but I have nothing to tell you. Please let me through."

But the lobby was filled and the front door was held open by the pressure of bodies pushing forward. People were raising children into the air to see him. He looked to tile coat rack and saw that his staff was missing. Looking through the glass wall beyond that place, he saw that a crowd was forming in front of the building.