Claire. "Chip, I mean. Well, I'd back your judgments against anybody's."
"I think you would have felt like that too. But he isn't going to be easy to know," said her granddaughter.
"Isn't he? Why?"
"He's very shy," answered Judy. "He had the shyest rooms I ever saw. Not a photograph to be seen, nor an ornament, nor even a novel. You know, you can guess at such a lot if there are things like that about to help you. No, there wasn't a single clue. But the greatest clue, in a way, was the lack of clues. As though, because of his shyness, he had tried to cover up his tracks. I don't think he wants to be known."
"If he had to be knocked down by a motor," said Madame Claire, "I consider it a fortunate thing that you were in it. After all, it might have been any Tom or Dick—or Miss Tom or Dick."
"I only wish he might take that view of it," answered Judy. "What news of Louise?"
Madame Claire hoped to hear more about Chip, but she was always quick to feel when a change of subject was wanted.
"She's with her people in Norfolk. She wrote Eric that she was enjoying the change, but that she felt it was her duty to come back at the end
