'Unconscious transference!' he said.
'You really think _that_?' his master asked, yet not mockingly.
Minks turned a shade pinker.
'I do, indeed, sir,' he replied warmly. 'I think it probable that the
thoughts of people you have never seen or heard of drop into your mind
and colour it. They lodge there, or are rejected, according to your
mood and the texture of your longings--what you want to be, that is.
What you want, if I may say so, is emptiness, and that emptiness
invites. The flying thought flits in and makes itself at home. Some
people overflow with thoughts of kindness and beauty that radiate from
them, of love and tenderness and desire to help. These thoughts, it
may be, find no immediate object; but they are not lost. They pour
loose about the world of men and women, and sooner or later find the
empty heart that needs them. I believe, sir, that to sit in a chair
and think such things strongly brings comfort to thousands who have
little idea whence comes the sudden peace and happiness. And any one
who happens to be praying for these things at the moment attracts them
instantly. The comfort, the joy, the relief come---'
'What a good idea, Minks,' said Rogers gently, 'and how helpful if we
all believed it. No one's life need be a failure then. Those who want
love, for instance, need it, crave it, just think what an army they
are!'
He stared thoughtfully a moment at his little secretary.
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