Car accident explanation

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Car accident explanation

Post by Archived Topic » Mon Dec 17, 2001 9:53 pm

Can anyone help me to draft this letter? I'm not sure how I can make it more persuasive.


Dear Mr. A,

I'm really sorry about hitting your car yesterday at the corner of X and Y.

I really don't know what came over me. One moment I was driving along quietly and the next my foot slipped and I kind of stamped on the gas and shot forward - straight into your trunk! I'm really sorry too that I didn't stop, and just reversed out and hightailed it. I guess I just panicked when I saw how mad you were. I was desperately trying to work out how to contact you when the Police called to say I might be prosecuted for dangerous driving.

All I can say is that I'm really, really sorry. *Please* withdraw your complaint. So far I've always had a clean license and I can't afford any increase in insurance payments right now.

Yours,
Submitted by Mary Harvis (Florida - U.S.A.)
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Car accident explanation

Post by Archived Reply » Mon Dec 17, 2001 10:08 pm

Dear Mr. A,

I'm really sorry about hitting your car yesterday at the corner of X and Y.

I really don't know what came over me. One moment I was driving along quietly and the next my foot slipped and I kind of stamped on the gas and shot forward - straight into your trunk!

I'm really sorry too that I didn't stop, and just reversed out and hightailed it in that crazy way. The truth is I was frightened of you. You looked so threatening I thought you would probably get out and start thrashing my car. I couldn't allow that because it doesn't belong to me. In fact the car belongs to Clyde. Clyde is my husband and he's a forward for the (name suppressed). They're a heavy team but I guess he's the heaviest forward they've ever had. When he sits down on the edge of the bed I have to lean out on the other side to stop it tipping over - like they do in ocean racing. When he exercises they call up from all over the block to complain at the way it's shaking. At least they used to. Since he went round and saw some of them they've all become very polite.

Anyway, when I got home I found the Police Department had called. Apparently some well-wisher noted my license-plate and called to say I had run away from the scene of an accident. The Police said they were considering charges of dangerous driving. I haven't dared to tell Clyde yet - I don't know what he'd do. He's feeling especially frustrated at the moment: the (name suppressed) have lost their last three matches and the coach said that Clyde might have to sit on the bench next time. Boy, is he mad!I was in despair until the guy on the desk said the Police won't pursue this if you withdraw your complaint. I guess that sounds pretty unlikely after the way I messed up you car. Still I can't help hoping that you'll think about whether you really want to follow this up. It's not even as if I've got the cash to pay for the repairs. Clyde just emptied our joint account and put down a first payment on a Happy Burger franchise. He says he has to think about providing for the future.

All in all I hope you'll reconsider and tell the Police that you're not pressing charges.

Yours apologetically,
Reply from John Wightman (Ohio - U.S.A.)
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Car accident explanation

Post by Archived Reply » Mon Dec 17, 2001 10:22 pm

Dear Mr. A,

I am so sorry I hit your car yesterday at the corner of X and Y. I'm really sorry too that I didn't stop, but I had good reason not to, as you'll see.

Have you got any children? Well, I have. Since yesterday, that is. You see, I was expecting Daniel (that's what we've decided to call him) the week after next. I was sitting at home getting on with some knitting for his crib, when I heard a ring at the door. I went to answer it - like a fool - forgetting that I had wound the threads around the corner of the table to untangle a difficult snarl.

You can guess what happened next. I went for an almighty "purler", although luckily I fell sideways onto some cushions and didn't hurt myself too much. It must have given Daniel quite a shock though, for he immediately started bounding about inside me. Within minutes I was having contractions. The problem was that as I fell I had grabbed at the nearest thing - the telephone - and pulled the cord out of the socket! When I plugged it in again and dialled the ambulance number it didn't work.

There was only one thing to do. I hobbled to the door, brushed aside the delivery man I found on the steps (I later found out he had come to give me a parcel of baby-clothes sent by my mother) and drove hell-for-leather for the hospital.

That was when I bumped into you. I really couldn't stop at the time - in fact Daniel was born only 20 minutes after I got into the emergency room!

So please withdraw your complaint with the Police, and please accept this piece of christening cake I am enclosing as a peace-offering. My husband will pay for any damage of course - he's feeling bad anyway that he wasn't in the delivery room when I was suffering and he's trying to make up for it by splashing money about. He's even bought me a brand-new knitting machine!

Yours gratefully,
Reply from Annie Webster (London - England)
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Car accident explanation

Post by Archived Reply » Mon Dec 17, 2001 10:37 pm

Dear Mr A,

I should like to offer my most humble apology for colliding with your car yesterday at the intersection of X and Y. I cannot excuse or even explain it. In twenty-five years of driving, I have never before hit the accelerator in mistake for the brake.

No apology, however abject, can be adequate, either to express the depth of my regret for the whole incident, or to appease the wrath you would be entirely justified in feeling; but I do nevertheless abjectly apologise, and throw myself upon your mercy. From the brief glimpse I had of you yesterday, I know that it will not fail. Though I am sometimes a slow judge of character, your magnanimity and greatness of heart were stamped so clearly upon your features that even I could not help but recognise them at once, which is why I am confident that you will treat me more kindly than I deserve.

I am all too aware that I exacerbated my guilt by driving off without stopping to apologise at the time. Again, I know that nothing can excuse this lapse. I can only suppose that the shock of the accident clouded my judgement, so that in my confusion I ascribed a distorted urgency to reaching my grandmother's house above all else. It is a matter of acute irony that I might now seldom, if ever, be able to visit her again; acute sadness, too, since at 97 she is unable to go out herself and relies on me for all contact with the outside world. Yet if I lose my no-claims bonus, I shall have to give up driving, and alas the distance is too far to walk.

The police officer who rang about the possible prosecution confirmed my impression of your extraordinary kindness. I could hardly stem his eloquence on the subject of your radiant gentility and good humour when you reported the incident. It is for this reason alone that I write to ask you to withdraw the complaint. It would be an unreasonable request to make of an ordinary person, but knowing how reluctantly you pressed it in the first place, I am sure you will be only too happy to withdraw it in the light of the special hardship it would cause.

I already have the highest regard for you, and I am only sorry that this, my first contact with you, could not be under more auspicious circumstances. I hope that you will not take it to heart, and that after this unfortunate misunderstanding is cleared up, it will not stand in the way of what may yet become a valuable and enriching friendship.

I beg, in spite of all, to remain

Your humble and obedient servant,
Reply from Mark Wainwright (Cambridge - England)
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Car accident explanation

Post by Archived Reply » Mon Dec 17, 2001 10:51 pm

Dear Mr. A,

I just received a call from the police who mistakenly believe that I was driving at the intersection of X and Y and ran into your car.

In fact, the driver of the car was my evil twin sister, Jodie. Jodie was in Florida and had forgotten that she was due on the runway at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in Los Angeles that same evening and was in quite a rush to make it back to her Lear Jet. She left a voicemail message at my work to tell me what had happened and is offering to give you points on the net of her next movie together with a role as an extra.

The movie is about a dashing starlet who is involved in an accident with a man and then falls in love with him just to get out of having to pay for the damage to his car. You can imagine what happens next.

In any event, please withdraw your complaint and I will have Jody's bodyguard, Bert, the large fellow who hand-delivered this letter, not become too convincing.



Sincerely
Reply from Clyde Platt (Seattle - U.S.A.)
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Car accident explanation

Post by Archived Reply » Mon Dec 17, 2001 11:05 pm

Mr A--

I suppose you are wondering (as perhaps, even now, I am) why someone of my...standing---you must know that I hold only a minor government post---yes, my...standing would contact you in this manner (and let me apologize for my footman Alexei Ivanovich's appearance---you must have noticed his appearance---he is a...a beast...but nonetheless), eh? Or perhaps you consider yourself above---it is no secret that you are a man of considerable wealth and are even admitted to Katarina Ivanovna's salon---such correspondences from men of my...station, yes? Well then, my friend---you see we really are friends in a certain way---let me tell you why I have contacted you in this manner and subjected you to this ignominy (I prayed to the Holy Mother that you would not be receiving anyone when Alexei---beast that he is, for I have just now remembered that he did not bring any change from the three kopecks which were given him, but that is irrelevant---arrived with the post)---for certainly, even now your face must be flushing with anger at my impudence, eh? Well, perhaps. You see I had a very interesting...yes, interesting conversation with a certain Inspector Lameyeshev today in which he told me---or, rather, he...insinuated---that I was responsible for a certain...shall we say...incident which took place in the square several days ago. You must understand, my friend---no!...my...benefactor...yes, my benefactor!---that this conversation came as quite a surprise to me as I am only an insignificant man who has very few dealings with the authorities (I am certain you have many). So it was indeed...eh...surprising to find myself "having dinner with Napoleon," as the expression goes, eh? But still, why do I write to you---to you, who are admitted to Katarina Ivanovna's salon!---you must ask. Well, you must also know that I am aware of certain...circumstances...which prevented me from telling this Inspector Lameyeshev what I knew concerning this...eh...incident. So I must ask that you have a response---I am sending Alexei at exactly noon tomorrow---ready to give to my footman (God help me for this impudence...I am crossing myself even as I write).

I remain in your service,

Ivan Ivanovich Lebedyakov
Reply from Daniel Dronsick (Christiansburg - U.S.A.)
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Car accident explanation

Post by Archived Reply » Mon Dec 17, 2001 11:20 pm

My Dear Mr. A:

It is with a heavy heart and a touch of fear from prosecution that I write to express my most sincere regrets for rear ending your Cadillac with the temporary tag in the window. I mean I certainly did not INTEND to demolish a brand new car. I mean I didn't mean to demolish ANY car, but certainly not a new one!

I did want to try and explain how this could happen You see, I was taking my dog, Socrates, to the vet. You see, he has developed this yen for eating rubber toys and had just finished an entire blow-up doll, named Sabrina (do not ask). Anyway, I was taking Socrates to the vet and just as we were approaching the intersection, at Y and Z, Socrates saw a child on the sidewalk with a rubber toy. WELL, there was simply not time to stop him, as he launched across my lap and nearly made it out the my window. Fortunately, he is 85 pounds, so he was much too big to make it entirely through. I have tried to keep him on a diet, but, of course the rubber toy problem has not helped. Anyway, just then you put on your brakes and I, of course, could not see through Socrates and plunged into you.

I do think there are some things that could be discussed. I mean, I know there was a red light, but you really should have been able to see the predicament I was in behind you and done SOMETHING! Certainly, had you been paying attention to me, you could have taken evasive action.

However, I am a very understanding person! So, if you are willing to drop all the charges: the accident, leaving the scene, attempted homicide(how was I to know you were going to get out just as I swerved to escape), I will not proceed with my lawsuit for the injuries to Socrates. Oh, yes, he was severely injured by your negligence. You see, the impact caused the blow up doll to inflate, and well it was not a pretty sight. Socrates may NEVER recover!

I await your reply.
VTY,

I.M. Heare
PS: Address: County Jail, Prisoner #14267
Reply from John Hopkins (Jupiter - U.S.A.)
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Car accident explanation

Post by Archived Reply » Mon Dec 17, 2001 11:34 pm

Sorry about the accident at X and Y. Couldn't stay around as I had to return to work. (It is our busy season.) If you have any problem, just contact my boss and he will straighten you out. He is:

John Smith
Chief, Audit Division
Internal revenue Service
Your Town, U.S.A.

Sincerely,
Your most humble public servant,

John Doe

Reply from Jim King (Kalamazoo, MI( - U.S.A.)
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Car accident explanation

Post by Archived Reply » Mon Dec 17, 2001 11:49 pm

Dear Mr A.,

Hey, guess what? I’m the guy that ran into you yesterday at the corner of X and Y!

It was too bad I didn’t stop at the time -- my apologies, by the way -- but I had a reason not to.

The fact is, you see, I’ve been a purveyor of premier automobiles since I can remember -- classy makes like Mercedes and Lexus, not the whizz’n’whackmobiles the quality controllers pass in Detroit, if you get me.

The reason I couldn’t stop yesterday -- and I know I oughta have did -- was I’d done a deal with this real nice guy -- he’s a big screen actor, Oscar-nominated, incredible man -- and I was on my way to deliver him three fantastic sports cars he’d ordered off of me last week: a Buggarari, a Lamboferatti, and a titanium-shell rocket car with an extra-wide bench seat. I’d have stopped, of course, only the fact of the matter of fact is, he’s off tomorrow on a shoot in Equatorial Guinea -- they say the wildlife’s very… well, wild out there -- and I did promise him delivery before he goes.

Anyhow, I had this date I really couldn’t break, especially after my appointment with Zsa Zsa went way over schedule already -- these movie types, they really can be hard to please, nobody can say no to them -- and so I’m afraid I just had to lower my meeting with you by one level in my priority. So sorry about that!

Anyhow, I did notice at the time you were driving one of those GM sedans -- very good cars in their own way, nothing wrong with 'em at all, of course -- and this thought did cross my mind when I was backing up after whacking your trunk, "This guy really does deserve to drive a splendid car," and this thought has kinda stuck there ever since.

I did get a look at you as you were stepping out, and I thought to myself, "Heavens! This guy, he really looks like a Lexus man! I really, really, REALLY want to help him. I must call him first thing Wednesday, just as soon as I come back from delivering those red, blue and silver Mercs to Miss Tandy -- she sure does cook a mean hash brown, does ol’ Jessie, gets it just right every time -- anyhow, I said to myself, I must ring that incredible, that extraordinarily handsome, distinguished-looking gent who sure does deserve a Lexus, and I’ll see what I can do for him." Only thing is, I didn’t get the chance to ring you first, ‘cause the local sheriff called me first. He said you were mad -- REAL mad! I said you had every right to be, with your fine GM sedan and its trunk hollowed out the way it was, and me not stopping. Of course, I said to him, the gent would be crazy NOT to get mad! Then he said you had filed some kind of complaint, and they were probably going to persecute me through the courts. I told him I could see you were a man who always did what he thought was right, and by God! as an American, you had every entitlement to do so, and I would sure support you if that was the kind of thing you wanted to do.

Anyhow, I’ve been thinking, and I know I have just the vehicle in my inventory for your consideration, a beautiful red Lexus K90 convertible with white Corinthian leather upholstery and every extra you could ever want or imagine. I was thinking, this gentleman, he really does deserve something classy, especially after what I did to the poor guy’s sedan, and I thought, "What would be the nicest thing I could every imagine doing for that gentleman that is in my power?" And I said to myself, "This red Lexus K90, with the white Corinthian upholstery and the surround-sound CD system and ABS braking, I will offer it to him not for the normal $55,000 -- no! He can have it for just $39,995, an amazing price which is way below cost, and I will even present him with a deluxe valeting set with a genuine Italian leather washcloth at absolutely no charge, thrown in with my compliments and blessing! That is the best thing I could ever do for this poor gentleman who I mistreated so badly, and who deserves the very best possible vehicle in town to drive around in, and be respected and envied by all his colleagues and neighbors!"

So that’s what I’d like to do for you, Mr A., and I would consider it a real privilege, sir, if you will allow me to do you the honor of granting you this exclusive opportunity. I would consider you most gracious if you will permit me to send a cab over for you tomorrow afternoon, when I can show you all the features of this fabulous automobile that you assuredly deserve to drive. Because I could tell just from looking at you, sir, that this guy I’m looking at recognizes and values quality! Only the best is good enough for that gentleman, I can see that at a glance!

Of course, a gent who drives around town in his red Lexus K90 convertible, getting whistled at by every girl he passes, he probably is not the kind of man who likes to keep hold of any resentments and frustrations. No! He is more noble in spirit than that, and would let go such petty ideas. Such a guy, he is generous and would not want his fellow-man to be persecuted through the courts, and would tell the police to drop the charges. The real rascals, he will tell them, do not live in his part of town.

Anyhow, I have ordered you a cab for tomorrow afternoon at four, and a champagne reception as soon as you arrive. Only the best for you, sir, only the best!

Reply from Erik Kowal (Reading - England)
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Car accident explanation

Post by Archived Reply » Tue Dec 18, 2001 12:03 am

Dear Mr. A . . .

I just had a visit from the Police. I must say I was most surprised, because they have never been to my house before. I mean, they usually meet me in the strangest of places. Anyway, they told me they were looking for me because I crashed into the back of your Ford Falcon at the corner of X and Y and then sped away from the scene of the crime. I have no recollection of this incident. SHUT UP BEATRICE! One minute I was driving along thinking how nice it was to finally be out of the rest home and the next thing I remember I was pulling into the parking lot of the Medical Arts Building. It is not that I didn't enjoy my stay at Shady Pines, BEATRICE! SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP! it is just that every minute of the day is so scheduled and prescribed. It is all so routine . . . the getting up, the getting dressed, the morning exercise, the bland breakfast in the cafeteria, the craft classes, the bland lunch, the walk around the grounds, the afternoon nap, the five minutes with Dr. Jim, Jeopardy then Oprah, the bland dinner, the board games in the evening, bedtime . . . every day, day after day after day. SHUT UP AND TAKE YOUR MEDICINE BEATRICE! Anyway, like I said, I was driving along, thinking how nice it was to be out, and all because Dr. Jim said I was doing very well, that I was able to accomplish "activities of daily living" on my own BEATRICE IF YOU DO NOT STEP AWAY FROM THE COMPUTER I WILL NOT BE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS! and that it was apparent I was taking all of my medicines at the right times every day. He even thought it would be o.k. for me to drive myself to and from my I MEAN IT YOUNG LADY! appointments, thus my presence in the vicinity of X and Y. But other than being in the area, I really cannot remember anything happening there. I hope you will forgive me.

You can't imagine how nice it is to be out among people like yourself, Mr. A. Everyone in the home was either depressed or incoherent, really not the sort of people you would choose to be around if you had any choice at all. The staff were nice, except for Mrs. Davis DAVIS WILL DEAL WITH YOU IF YOU DON'T BEHAVE MISSY! who kept calling me Bea! I think she has worked at Shady Pines too long because she can no longer keep the guests straight! I overheard DAMN IT BEATRICE I AM NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN! her telling Dr. Jim that she didn't think I should leave, but he said that since I was no longer having angry outbursts and it appeared that my personalities were well-integrated, he really couldn't justify my staying any longer.

Mr. A, you know the sensation you get when things sometimes seem to fall into place as if by magic? Like when you are, say, weaving a basket and you are almost done but still need to soak some additional reeds, and so you grab a handful and put them SHOVE HER HEAD INTO THE BUCKET! into the boiling water to soften them and it turns out you grabbed the exact amount you needed to finish the basket . . . not one inch too short or too long? Well, that is how I feel now. During my appointment on the day in question, my therapist said I should try WHAT IS THAT AWFUL SMELL? to meet more people in the community, to make some friends . . . and then tonight the police drop you into my lap! I hope that "after this unfortunate misunderstanding is cleared up, it will not stand in the way of what may yet become a valuable and enriching friendship."

We await your call . . .

Reply from Kerri Quinton (Wichita - U.S.A.)
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Car accident explanation

Post by Archived Reply » Tue Dec 18, 2001 12:17 am

I still can’t work out exactly how I got into this bally mess. Today began as normal — two minutes after waking at noon when the noble Jeeves arrived with the tea-tray and the morning mail, on the dot as usual. Really, he is a national treasure, the kindly sort of creature you might get on crossing St. Francis with Teresa of Avila. But I have found that one does have to put one’s foot down sometimes. I told him, if it works for Fink-Nottle, it’s good enough for me — the brown envelopes belong with all the others behind the clock. Time’s winged whatsit, and all that — there will always be plenty of it left over for dealing with those. I’ve noticed how when Jeeves and I disagree over something, he tends to come round to my way of thinking in the end, like the sensible fellow he is.

The Wooster start to the day is normally reserved for important post and a dekko at the cricket scores… I see England’s doing jolly well this year… God knows how they keep it up! By the end of the century, no doubt, the entire Empire will be humming in unison to the sweet sounds of summer — the crack of willow-wood, the jovial drone of the bumble-bee going about his merry business, and the lusty roar of all Britannia’s loyal subjects cheering on the mother country as yet another victorious England team sails into dock!

But I digress. This morning followed the usual routine of a quick sploshing in the bathroom, a swill round the tonsils with a new gargle-juice I have lately discovered, then breakfast, and finally on with the golfing togs. Golf clubs are such blasted sticklers for the tiny but important details — things like how much flag one is flying from the breast. Today I decided I would sport a natty little number I found in Fortnum’s the other day — actually it was Threepwood junior who found it, a dark purple silk effort with little pink roses. One glance, and I knew I just had to have it!

I couldn’t understand what got into Jeeves after breakfast today — he’s normally such an affable cove, not much given to tantrums or unreasonability, as I believe they call it. Three times I had to remind him to put out the silken kerchief, and all I got was a "Very good, sir," in the sort of voice that would freeze a lido at twenty paces.

"Jeeves," I reminded him, "fashion… fashion stands still for no man!" I rather liked that, I must say — I’ll have to look it up some time.

"Very good, sir," he replied, with an austerity that would have cracked a Brazil nut without being asked. Really, at times the chappie verges on insolence!

Anyhow, I was minding my own business after breakfast, trundling down one of those leafy country lanes we English do so well, when the Alvis rounded a corner, and there it was: a great unmoving mountain of a Bentley which I recognised as Lady Sticklebury’s, right in the middle of the crossroads.

Well, I had nowhere else to go. With the fearsome crunch of a buckling bronco, the nose of the Alvis buried itself in the rear of the monster, and I heard this strangled — no, muffled — sort of woofling shriek from inside the Bentley, and a gurgling noise rather like a death-rattle. Well, of course I was shocked, but we Woosters are made of sterner stuff. With my usual quickness of thought I slammed the lever into reverse, and before Jack Robinson had had time to utter a peep I was off down the side road.

Naturally, I didn’t get to the golf course that day. For a start, it’s always a bore to have to recount the heroic speed of one’s reactions to all and sundry, however blameless the occasion. Besides, the Bentley might have been on its way to the club too, and there could have been a fair amount of unpleasantness shimmying back and forth across the car park. Safer, I thought, to go home again. I had a mind to quiz old Jeeves in the peace of my sitting-room on the ramifications of the episode over a leisurely and calming snifter of the Scottish nectar. In his quiet way, Jeeves has acquired rather a name for the efficiency of his cerebrations. Many is the aunt who has rued the day she crossed a Wooster’s path!

It is not too much to ask, I feel, for one’s manservant to receive one civilly on returning from the great outdoors, having harmed not a fly! Yet the look was stony. No sign of movement was on his phiz as the door swung open, other than a slight twitching of the upper lip and a queer sort of swivelling gyration of the right eyeball in the general area of my breast pocket.

"Jeeves," I vouchsafed in the stiffest manner I could muster, "this is 1929. Purple is this year’s colour! Don’t you forget it!"

"No, sir. Very good, sir." Like a human icicle the blighter stood rooted to the doorknob as I passed inside.

I have to say, though, you do have to hand it to Jeeves. When it comes to the old grey matter, the man is no slouch. Once I had explained the current predicament he seated himself slowly on the sofa, placed his hands carefully together in that familiar thoughtful way he has, and pondered a long moment, gazing at me with the unnerving disposition of a gimlet. I was still feeling somewhat sore at the fellow’s earlier outspokenness regarding my elegantly displayed chestwear, and was on the point of remonstrating further, when a low invisible rumble started to condense from out of the air somewhere.

"Hmm-hmm," he trickled, "I believe… I believe there may be a way of resolving the present impasse with the minimum of inconvenience to yourself, sir." He paused.

"Good — good!", I encouraged him. "Warm to it! Spill the beans! Issue forth! Let us have it! Carry on!"

"Indeed, sir. — Are you aware, sir, that there is at present a particular lady visiting the district with a certain… reputation?"

"Lady? Reputation? What reputation?" We Woosters may not always be of the quickest, but this kind of utterance is not calculated to steady the nerve of a fellow.

"An authoress, sir. An American lady, sir." He paled slightly at his own words, and his lip tightened.

"Jeeves," I ejaculated, "kindly explain what this has to do with the motor accident this afternoon.

"I was coming to that, sir." He unclapped his hands. "The point is that the lady is known to favour motoring in a vehicle identical to your own, sir."

At this it seemed a species of dawning might be starting to brighten the mental horizon, but without anything you could put your finger on.

"Yes? And? Who is this lady, exactly?"

"A Miss Stein, sir. I believe she is highly regarded in what are often termed… bohemian circles, sir." The man’s lip was observed to curl as it formed the frightful adjective.

"Bohemian circles? What of them? You’re making as much sense as a kipper… a kipper… as a kipper chasing a marshmallow!" The blood was starting to steam in my ears.

"Yes, sir. Indeed, sir. If you will permit me to explain, sir… The fact is, a lady enjoying her reputation may readily be considered capable of anything. It would appear to me, sir, that a letter purporting to be sent by the lady herself would be believed without fear of contradiction, regardless of its content.

I stared at the blighter. "Well, Jeeves, what have you in mind?"

"It will require some little thought, sir, assisted by some rather distasteful — investigations." He shuddered, and his knuckles whitened. "I am going to town to consult the library, sir, and will be back presently, when I hope finally to settle the matter."

Well, even a Wooster will clutch at the mouth of a straw horse when he has to, and I willingly urged the johnnie on his way even before his cycle clips were fully buckled.

On his return the faithful fellow was as good as his word. I felt unaccountably restless. Resisting the temptation to stand behind his shoulder as he deployed his pencil at the writing-desk — something which on occasion has been known to raise the prickles of even the most patient — I paced up and down the room with my fists clasped, my fingers kneading, and my brow moist as the dew on a well-chilled bottle of Veuve Clicquot ‘22, until a slight upward tilt of his greying temple indicated the valet savant had completed his sensitive ordeal.

"Here it is, sir. I trust that the result will prove entirely satisfactory for its purpose." Uncoiling, he stood up and shuffled noiselessly aside from the desk. I peered at the fine hand that had drifted across the paper like the ghost of a cobweb. Then I started back like a jolly young shepherd whose shepherdess has just unleashed a streaming jet from her buttonhole. For this is what popped into view:

"Sticklebury. Lady. Lady Sticklebury. A lady in a car. A lady driving a car. Today. I am telling what I am remembering. I tell it in this way and I tell it in that way. I tell it in this way. This way. That way. Remembering. More and more I tell it. More and more. My car hitting your car. Your car. My car. Hitting your car. How many cars are there? There is one car. One car. And another car. I am seeing myself. I am driving. I am seeing myself driving. Here. There. Here and there. Here and there and there and here. One car. And another car. Driving away from your car. Driving and remembering and telling. I am remembering pretty completely everything I have been telling. What have I been telling? I am going to be telling. Or not telling. What am I going to be telling? Have I been telling? What have I been telling? I am telling that I am not there. I am driving. What driving? One car. Driving one car away from your car. Another car. Too bad. Too bad. Too bad. Happy I am. Happy. I am Stein. Stone. Stone Stein stone Stein stone. Gertrude. Stone Stein Gertrude. Stone. Am I Stone? Or Stein?" — I broke off, perspiring freely from every pore. After a short pause of about an hour and a quarter, my breath began to recover its regularity, and the jelly in my legs started to settle.

Plainly, the man had endured excruciating torments in the library. Recalling that he had been absent for over two hours, I resolved that his pains must not go forgotten at Christmas.

"Stupendous effort, Jeeves! Absolutely top-notch! Obviously, this could only be the work of someone off their trolley, up a gum tree, short of sixpence, raving without a paddle!"

"Precisely, sir."

"Batty as a belfry. Nutty as a nut!"

"Exactly. I had hoped that you would form a similar opinion, sir."

For once, the saintly paragon could not contain the smile of satisfaction that was soaking slowly yet decorously up his features.

"I shall see to it that it is posted to the Stickleburys at once, sir." Still, for some reason he held his gaze on my face, his stiffly curved lips immobile as a becalmed hammock under his impeccably manicured schnozz.

"Yes? Yes, Jeeves? Was there something else?"

The fellow coughed behind his fingers with the delicacy of a chihuahua gulping down a praline.

"A minor matter, sir. Your silk handkerchief — I wonder, have you perhaps given your wardrobe the benefit of some further thought?"

Like a cove whose doctor has been rather too eager to ply the rubber hammer, my hand flew to the breast of the golfing jacket in which, thanks to my distraction, my form was still draped.

"This handkerchief, do you mean, Jeeves?"

"Yes, sir. Indeed, sir. Thank you, sir. I shall endeavour to place it where it can do no further harm, sir."

"Oh, right-o, Jeeves... Well done, Jeeves!"
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