One final observation before I leave. There is an odd fountain in the farthest corner of the room, situated with a view to the window and surrounded by soft accent lighting. I say it is odd, because of the water itself. The water is beaded. Not upon the frame work of the fountain itself, but within the fountain and flowing into the fountain. The water beads are a lovely silver-gold and feel cool to the touch. I say that the water flow into the fountain, as this is all I can see. The water drops down from the ceiling and across and into the fountain itself. I can see no source for the beads; they just appear midair and fall down.

On a whim I take one of the beads and pop it into my mouth. I have been thirsty since my hallway encounter dried my mouth. The bead instantly dissolves in my mouth and washes down my throat. To say that it was refreshing would be do it a disservice. The water feels as if it is filling me, touching every part of my being and making me well. A peace comes over me. I feel settled and whole.

Behind the fountain is a small doorway, leading to a previously hidden alcove. Above the alcove is a small sign, in some ancient tongue that I am unable to decipher, but seems to indicate great treasure. How I arrive at this conclusion is beyond me, perhaps it is the effect of the water. Inside the alcove are three statues, carved in the ancient Greek fashion. Three young men, standing proud. No names, no plaques, no indication of who they are. But they are hidden here, and obviously revered.

Before leaving, I take as many of the beads as I can carry and pack away. They seem remarkably stable for having melted so rapidly in my mouth. It is while taking them that I notice an inscription around the edge of the basin: To You It Shall Be Provided, You've Merely To Ask. To All You Shall Give As Much As You Are Asked; To All You Shall Give As Much As You Have Need.