I was beginning to wonder what had happened to the good lady.
Dear Mrs Scrote, she writes, sorry I haven't written sooner, but I have been away, dear. Not a holiday, no, I had a spell in hospital. Lady's things, you know. Nice enough doctors and that, but, honest, they way they put you in the stirrups and then walk out leaving the door open, and a boy you knew from school walks by, looks in, waves and says "Oh hello, I thought it was you!" Though how he recognised me without my glasses is a mystery.
Blodwen Trellis, Mrs, widow, retd, mended