“Oh, Lord, yes! Good old Chip! Been through two campaigns together.” Then as Judy held out her hand, “’By, Miss Pendleton. I’ll let you know how he gets on. Ought to be out to-morrow.”
They walked briskly down Church Street, Judy with an arm through Noel’s, and her chin buried in her furs.
“Well?” said Noel.
“Well?” she echoed.
“I said it first,” remarked her brother.
“Translated, I take it to mean, how do I like Chip? Is that it?”
“Couldn’t have put it better.”
“I like him immensely,” said Judy obligingly. “Now it’s your turn.”
“Same here.” Then after a pause, “Feeling less spinsterish?”
“I don’t feel in the least spinsterish, thank you.”