He caught her hand and started across the green to the end of the long table where an efficient-looking woman, in a blue uniform with spotless white collar and cuffs, was pouring coffee. Within a few feet of her the sailor stopped suddenly.
“What is your name? After all, introductions are awkward without having the names of both parties.”
They laughed self-consciously.
“Kathryn Carter—Kitty they call me, of course.”
“I’m Yeoman Brad Mason.”
“I knew you were a yeoman—your crossed feather insignia,” she told him. “You see my dad’s been in the Navy ten years.”
His face brightened. “Oh, then we’re practically in the same family. And now that the formalities are over we’ll proceed to business.”
Kitty glanced toward the end of the table and realized that Miss Pearson had overheard their little conversation. The three of them laughed, and the ice was completely broken.
“Since introductions are now unnecessary, Miss Pearson,” said Brad, “let me explain that this young lady has suddenly discovered there’s such a thing in this man’s war as a Canteen Corps.”
Kitty flushed. “Oh, really now, I’ve always known about them, but just got the idea of doing that work myself.”