she had never been in love. Not that it made any difference, beyond the pleasure that it gave him, for to love Judy was not the same thing where he was concerned as to make love to her. That was unthinkable.
They left Madame Claire's together at six, and Chip, happily reckless as well as recklessly happy, walked with Judy all the way to Eaton Square. It was settled that he was to dine there and begin his rejuvenation the following Wednesday night. For Judy told herself that she couldn't keep Chip a secret from the family forever, and they might as well meet him and get done with it.
"I hope you won't be frightened of mother," she said. "I don't know why it is, but she does frighten people. I don't think she wants to, really. She and father are very keen on what Noel calls the 'kin game.' You know the sort of thing I mean—who's related to who and how."
"I see," said Chip.
"So perhaps you'd better tell me some of your family history. Then I could tell them, and you won't be bothered. Because they're sure to want to know."
She colored as she said it, and Chip guessed that there were mortifying experiences behind her warning.
