When they returned from their drive, Frank took her to a small restaurant for dancing and a light snack. As they moved out on the dance floor, Kit sighed.
“Why are you always going away from people?” she asked.
Frank shrugged. “I’m not going any place,” he said, holding out his arms to her. “You are.”
Kit made a face at him as they started to dance. “That’s what I mean, silly. First I had to leave college. You know, you think you’re all set to leave and that you never want to see another classroom or textbook again. But then you do leave, and you just can’t bear it. I mean, leaving Uncle Bart and Aunt Della and Jeannette Flambeau, my roommate, and the whole gang. This time it was a little easier because I knew I was going to come here and see you. But now I have to leave you and the new friends I’ve made here. Then I’ll get home and next fall I’ll have to leave Father and Mother and the family. You’re always leaving someone behind.”
“Or being left behind,” Frank said earnestly. “I don’t want to talk about it any more. It’s not much fun being left. And if I started to tell you how I feel about it, I could easily frighten you.”
Kit hesitated. “All right, Frank,” she said. “I guess I’m terrible, worrying about myself when other people have problems, too.”
He squeezed her hand. “Yep, you’re terrible, all right,” he said. “You make me feel like a man who’s bet his whole life savings on a horse race.”
Kit stared at him. “What?” she asked.
He smiled wistfully. “I’m a grown-up man, Kit,” he said softly. “I’ve been in love ... or thought I was in love ... before. But never like this. You’re such a child, still. You should have lots of men in your life. All I can do is make my bet—that’s my whole heart—and stand by and wait till the race is over.”
Kit smiled slowly. “I hope I’ve been honest with you, Frank,” she said. “I couldn’t bear to think I’ve done anything to hurt you. But of course,” she added, “Ralph must have felt the same way about Jean. And that worked out.”