It was right before you got here. [She glances over her shoulder with a small, wry smile.] You wouldn't have believed it at first, and I didn't see a reason to, after.

[Since he seems, more or less, to believe this is happening, now. Or at least not to question it as often, as vocally. Maybe nearly dying had seemed real enough to outweigh the lack of logic here; or maybe he was just tired of arguing. The City had certainly seemed realer to her than ever, paradoxically, at its most impossible, the morning she woke up in an apartment with a shattered window but no blood.]

House hasn't been keeping track of near-deaths, only doubles and people hitting Wilson.