He was a famous writer with thousands of fans. He met hundreds of them at events, book fairs and tours; of course he didn’t remember most of them later.
In her first letter to him, Anne claimed she had met him at a book event earlier that year; he had no reason to doubt it. Her handwriting was calligraphy.
After a year the monthly letters ceased arriving. A month later while travelling to Manali his car rolled down a gorge near a haunted British bungalow, the same place where the letters came from. Anne had died there in 1873.
This post is part of a themed BARATHON here.