"Why?" asked Zora, who did not understand.
"Because—" he began, and then he stopped, finding no words. "I wonder whether God sent you?"
"I'm afraid it was only Septimus," she said with a smile.
"Septimus?"
He was startled. What could Septimus have to do with her coming? He rose again, and focusing his whirling senses on conventional things, wheeled an armchair to the fire, and led her to it, and took his seat near her in his office chair.
"Forgive me," he said, "but your coming seemed supernatural. I was dazed by the wonderful sight of you. Perhaps it's not you, after all. I may be going mad and have hallucinations. Tell me that it's really you."
"It's me, in flesh and blood—you can touch for yourself—and my sudden appearance is the simplest thing in the world."
"But I thought you were going to winter in Egypt?"
"So did I, until I reached Marseilles. This is how it was."
She told him of the tail of the little china dog, and of her talk with Septimus the night before.