ptimus.

"I think I'm a fool," said Zora.

His face assumed a look of horror. His goddess a fool? She laughed gaily.

"You look as if you were about to remark, 'If any man had said that, the
word would have been his last'! But I am, really. I thought there might be
something between you and Emmy and that a little encouragement might help
you. Forgive me. You see," she went on, a trace of dewiness in her frank
eyes, "I love Emmy dearly, and in a sort of way I love you, too. And need I
give any more explanation?"

It was an honorable amends, royally made. Zora had a magnificent style in
doing such things: an indiscreet, venturesome, meddlesome princess she
might be, if you will; somewhat unreserved, somewhat too conscious of her
own Zoraesque sufficiency to possess the true womanly intuition and
sympathy; but still a princess who had the grand manner in her scorn of
trivialities. Septimus's hand shook a little as he fitted the tail to the
hollow bit of china dog-end. It was sweet to be loved, although it was
bitter to be loved in a sort of way. Even a man like Septimus Dix has his
feelings. He had to hide them.

"You make me very happy," he said. "Your caring so much for me as to wish
me to marry your sister, I shall never forget it. You see, I've never
thought of her in that way. I suppose I don't think of women at all in that
way," he went on, with a certain splendid mendacity. "It's a case of
cog-wheels instead of corpuscles. I'm just a heathen bit of machinery, with
my head full of diagrams."

"You're a tender-hearted baby," said Zora. "Give me those bits of dog."

She took them from his hand and threw the mutilated body into the fire.

"See," she said, "let us keep tokens. I'll keep the head and you the tail.
If ever you want me badly send me the tail, and I'll come to you from any
distance--and if I want you I'll send you the head."

"I'll come to you from the ends of the earth," said Septimus.

So he went home a happy man, with his tail in his pocket.

* * * * *

The next morning, about eight o'clock, just as he was sinking into his
first sleep, he was awakened through a sudden dream of battle by a series
of revolver shots. Wondering whether Wiggleswick had gone mad or was
attempting an elaborate and painful mode of suicide, he leaped out of bed
and rushed to the landing.

"What's the matter?"

"Hello! You're up at last!" cried Clem Sypher, appearing at the bottom of
t