"I think when the Insurance Act is a little better understood it will
lose some of its present unpopularity," hazarded Cecilia Smithly-Dubb.
"Will it? I dare say. I'm afraid politics don't interest me very much,"
said Lady Drakmanton.
The three Miss Smithly-Dubbs put down their cups of Turkish coffee and
stared. Then they broke into protesting giggles.
"Of course, you're joking," they said.
"Not me," was the disconcerting answer; "I can't make head or tail of
these bothering old politics. Never could, and never want to. I've
quite enough to do to manage my own affairs, and that's a fact."
"But," exclaimed Amanda Smithly-Dubb, with a squeal of bewilderment
breaking into her voice, "I was told you spoke so informingly about the
Insurance Act at one of our social evenings."
It was Lady Drakmanton who stared now. "Do you know," she said, with a
scared look around her, "rather a dreadful thing is happening. I'm
suffering from a complete loss of memory. I can't even think who I am. I
remember meeting you somewhere, and I remember you asking me to come and
lunch with you here, and that I accepted your kind invitation. Beyond
that my mind is a positive blank.
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