Suddenly, we heard a loud “ah” from the crowd and turned to look toward the musicians. They stood and stepped aside as an upright piano was wheeled in. It looked brand new. The pianist appeared on the right and took his seat. He began with a waltz. Four couples began to dance immediately, and others started to join them.

“Oh, I love this,” Garland said. “I recently had a Steinway Victorian C delivered to my home. We have a ballroom, too, and my parents once hosted many galas as big as if not bigger than this one. Do you dance, Corrine?”

I shook my head. Dance? In the Wexlers’ grand ballroom, with all these people watching? How do I get out of this?

“I’ve never attempted a waltz.”

“Oh, the waltz is easy. Will you permit me to show you?” he asked, and stood as if he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

I immediately turned to look for my parents. My mother could literally charge across the room and drag me off the floor if I rose. I saw them way to the left with some other executives and employees of the bank and their wives. Their attention was fixed on the pianist and the dancers in front of the piano, however. Should I chance it?

“Really, I’ve never really danced the waltz.”

“How surprising, but don’t worry. It’s easy,” he said again, crossed to me, and held out his hand. “You’ll see. Please. It will be the highlight of the evening for me.”

What made me hesitant was the fear that we would surely attract attention. Someone, one of the younger girls, perhaps, would approach us and either accidentally or enviously mention how young I was. What kind of a scene would that be? My outrage could easily bring my mother.

But really, what was I to do? Any more hesitation might get him suspicious anyway.

I rose, and he took my hand and led me to a clear space that was really away from most of the others dancing. Then he placed my left hand in his and raised it. He turned so we would face each other.

“Put your right hand on my shoulder,” he said. “Go on,” he urged. “I’m not that hot to the touch . . . yet.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Emma and Elsie smothering a laugh. How childish, I thought. Don’t look at them and encourage them, I warned myself.

“Keep your elbow up like so,” he said. “Perfect. Now, just follow what I do. We’re going to do the basic box step.”

He announced each move just before he did it, and I followed, holding my breath. I felt like his eyes, this close, were exploring every inch of my face, fixing on my lips.

“Yes,” he said. “I knew you’d be good at it. Just bend your knee a little more as you step.”

The music continued.