“Considering that I’ve paid the premiums regularly while you were away, I should think I ought to know.”

“Of course I shall put in a claim for the slacks,” I murmured.

“But how can you?” she asked, and wondering looked at me.  “I read the policy once, and as far as I remember there’s nothing whatever about khaki slacks in it.”

“Do you know what this policy is?” I exclaimed, brandishing the document impressively.  “It’s a Comprehensive Householder’s policy.  I don’t know what a Comprehensive Householder is, but I think I must be one.”

“But I’m sure it says nothing about slacks,” she objected.

“Comprehensive!” I shouted.  “That means all-embracing.  This policy embraces my slacks.”

“That sounds almost indelicate.”

“Listen.  ’Whereas the undermentioned, hereinafter called the Accused—­the
Assured, I mean—­has paid blank pounds, shillings and pence Premium or
Consideration ... to insure him/her from loss or damage by Lightning,
Explosion, Earthquake, Thunderbolts ...’”

“Oo-er,” said Suzanne with a shiver.

“’...  Aeroplanes, Airships, and/or other Aerial Craft, Storm, Tempest, Subterranean Fire ...’”

“Monsoon, Typhoon, Volcano, Avalanche,” put in Suzanne impatiently.  “Cut the cataclysms and come to the slacks.”

“I’m just coming to them. ’...  Burglary, Housebreaking, Theft and/or Larceny’—­now hold your breath, for we’re getting there—­’Conflagration and/or Fire....’” I paused to let it sink in.  “The fact is,” I continued weightily, “we’ve had a Fire.”

“Have we?  But I wasn’t dressed for it.  I should have worn a mauve peignoir, and been carried down to safety by a blond fireman.  To have a fire without a fire-engine is like being married at a registry-office.  Next time—­”

“Nevertheless, we’ve had a Fire, within the meaning of the policy.  Now I’m going to write a letter to the Insurance Company.”

And I did so to the following effect:—­

  “77, The Supermansions,
  S.W.

“DEAR SIRS,—­I regret to inform you that a fire took place at/in the above demesne and/or flat after tea to-day and damaged one (1) pair of khaki slacks/trousers so as to render them unfit for further use.  I shall therefore be glad to receive from you the sum of two guineas, the original cost price of the damaged article of apparel.

“Yours, etc.”

Next day I took Suzanne out to buy the new hat.  This done, we went on to my tailor’s to replace the ill-starred slacks.  A casual inquiry as to price elicited the statement that it would be four guineas.  I cut short a rambling discourse, in which the tailor sought to saddle various remote agencies with the responsibility for the increase, and stamped out of the establishment with the blasphemous vow that I’d get a pair ready-made at the Stores.

That evening I received a reply from the Insurance people:—­