Myrtle can’t grow in the shade. It would wither and die. Someone has made it grow in the dark.” “How?” “Magic. How else?” Alcibiades shrugged, and Socrates said, “How else? That’s a serious question. If you don’t believe in magic, how did this sprig grow here? Perhaps the gods wanted it to. If so, they may have left it for us as a sign.” “What kind of sign?” “An omen.