I saw the nudge and daylight at the same time. What a boob I had been. And Irene’s weak excuse was nothing more than a snub. Suddenly I remembered some remarks my room-mate had made a short while ago. “Tom, if you could only see yourself try to dance, you’d scream. You hold yourself so stiff and look so serious. And what a mess you make of pivoting. I’ll bet your grandfather taught you .those steps you do. Why in the world don’t you write to Arthur Murray and let him teach you some new steps. I’ll wager that he makes a good dancer out of you inside of a month’s time.” Naturally, at the time I thought my room-mate was kidding. For I knew that Arthur Murray taught dancing by mail. So I just laughed. But no more. Then arid there I resolved to pin my faith on Arthur Murray-to see if he could possibly make me a popular dancer.