“I don’t like to call it anything of the kind, John Huish,” said the doctor tartly, “because it’s all nonsense. I have not studied insanity for the last five-and-twenty years without knowing something about it; so you may dismiss that idea from your mind. But come, let’s know something more about this terrible bugbear.”
“Bugbear if you like, doctor, but here is the case. Every now and then I have people—friends, acquaintances—reminding me of things I have promised—engagements I have made—and which I have not kept.”
“What sort of engagements?” said the doctor.
“Well, generally about little bets, or games at cards.”
“That you owe money on?”
“Yes,” said Huish eagerly. “I have again and again been asked for money that I owe.”
“Or are said to owe,” said the doctor drily.
“Oh, there is no doubt about it,” said Huish. “About a twelvemonth ago, when this sort of thing began—”
“What sort of thing?” said the doctor.
“These lapses of memory,” replied Huish. “Oh!”