"You see," I said, "it's not really difficult."
"Oh, you angel! What do I do with them?"
"Stick them on Jane," I said grandly. "Dot them about the house. Stamp your letters with them—I can always get you plenty more."
"Didn't you get a card too?"
"N-no. No, I didn't. The fact is, it's your turn now, Celia. You get the card."
"Oh, all right. I—er—suppose you just ask for a—a card?"
"I suppose so. And—er—choose a doctor, and—er—decide on an approved society, and—er—explain why it is you hadn't got a card before, and—er—— Well, anyhow, it's your turn now, Celia."
"It's really still Jane's turn," said Celia, "only she's so stupid about it."
But she turned out to be not so stupid as we thought. For yesterday there came a ring at the bell. Feeling instinctively that it was the inspector, Celia and I got behind the sofa ... and emerged some minutes later to find Jane alone in the room.
"Somebody come to see about an insurance card or something," she said. "I said you were both out, and would he come to-morrow."