“That’s no better than mine,” he said.
“I know. It’s the best I can manage, though, Pete.”
The taxi was waiting outside. He gave my address to the driver.
He said, “Well, Patricia, thank you for dining with me.”
“I enjoyed it,” I said.
* * * * *
Next day Helena came back from Canada, and she and I shopped for Fall
clothes together. The advertising manager returned from his breakdown
and I had a vacation.
On the first evening after I came back to New York, I was sitting alone,
reading an accumulation of letters from Lucia, when the telephone rang.
A voice said, “After I left the Black Hills I had to fill in at our
Washington Bureau. I got back to New York twenty minutes ago. Is it too
late in the evening to ask you to go somewhere to dance? I’ve spent the
entire trip from Washington discussing the Republicans who want to run
against Smith next year, and I want to hear music.”
I said, “Hello, Noel. Of course I’ll go dancing. How soon will you call
for me?”
“Half an hour,” he said.