“Hope I didn’t startle you?” I said.
“Who are you?”
“My name’s Wooster. I’m a pal of your nephew Oliver.”
Her breathing had become more regular.
“Oh?” she said. “When I heard your voice, I thought you were someone else.”
“No, that’s who I am. I came up here to tell you about Oliver.”
“What about him?”
I hesitated.
Now that we were approaching what you might call the nub or crux of the situation a good deal of my breezy confidence seemed to have slipped from me.
“Well, it’s rather a painful tale, I must warn you.”
“Oliver isn’t ill? He hasn’t had an accident?”
She spoke anxiously, and I was pleased at this evidence of human feeling.