"Change my rings," said Daphne. "Why?"
"I only wondered. D'you find that infallible?"
My sister nodded.
"Absolutely," she said. "Of course, I don't always remember what I've changed them for, but it shows me there's something I've forgotten."
"I see. Then you've only got to remember what that is, and there you are. Why don't I wear rings?"
"Change your shoes instead," said I drowsily. "Or wear your waistcoat next to your skin. Then, whenever you want to look at your watch, you'll have to undress. That'll make you think."
"You go and change your face," said Berry. "Don't wait for something to remember. Just go and do it by deed-poll. And then advertise it in The Times. You'll get so many letters of gratitude that you'll get tired of answering them."
Before I could reply to this insult—
"I suppose," said my sister, "this means that you can't remember something which concerns me and really matters."
In guilty silence her husband prepared a cigar for ignition with the utmost care. At length—