The letter found me in bed.

I could not say now whether I answered it or not: it made me impatient; his friends must have known that I owed Oscar nothing; but later I received a telegram from Ross saying that Oscar was not expected to live.

I was ill and unable to move, or I should have gone at once to Paris.

As it was I sent for my friend, Bell, gave him some money and a cheque, and begged him to go across and let me know if Oscar were really in danger, which I could hardly believe.

As luck would have it, the next afternoon, when I hoped Bell had started, his wife came to tell me that he had had a severe asthmatic attack, but would cross as soon as he dared.
I was too hard up myself to wire money that might not be needed, and Oscar had cried "wolf" about his health too often to be a credible witness.