They traveled out Connecticut Avenue in Frank’s car. “I think for your first night, the Shoreham,” Frank said gravely. “Just to show you that wealth doesn’t exclude niceness.”
“Don’t be such an idiot,” Kit cried. “It sounds marvelous!”
Together they walked through the handsome lobby of the uptown hotel and out to the terrace where they were shown to a table. Frank ordered dinner while Kit looked about her. She clasped her hands together in sheer pleasure.
While they ate, there was a floor show to entertain them. Then the music for dancing began. Kit grabbed Frank’s hand.
“I know I should wait to be asked,” she said, “but let’s dance.”
Frank put his hand over hers. “Let’s wait just a few minutes, Kit,” he pleaded. “I want to talk to you.”
Kit felt a tingle run up her spine. She shivered.
“Maybe I’m rushing things,” Frank admitted. “But can we talk now about you and me?”
“Of course, Frank,” Kit said slowly.
“I know you’ll think I’m forcing an issue,” Frank continued, “but I think you know I’ve waited a long time, feeling the way I do.”