“Indeed, it is.” Harry laughed. “But there’s much too much of it, I’m afraid.” He patted his stomach which showed no signs of excess. “You have to be careful not to overdo it. Most passengers gain at least five pounds a week.”

Mrs. Lloyd leaned toward him.

“What was it you wanted to ask me?”

“Do you know, sitting here with you, it’s gone right out of my mind.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll think of it. It’ll probably come to you later.”

By now the card players were beginning to set their empty tea-cups down on the table and head off to the cloak room to collect their coats. The volunteers who looked after the refreshments, led by Glynnis Bowen, talked quietly as they stacked and rinsed used cups and saucers and packed leftover sandwiches and biscuits into plastic containers. At the other end of the room, the community centre caretaker emerged from a small office under the stairs and began folding up card tables, snapping their folding legs into place with a metallic click, and carrying them off to a storage cupboard.

“Well,” said Mrs. Lloyd with a sigh, “that’s it for another evening. We’d best hand in our cups and be on our way.”

“May I see you home?” Harry asked. “Or perhaps Mr. Lloyd will be coming to pick you up?”

“Oh dear me, no,” Mrs. Lloyd said. “Sadly, I lost my Arthur several years ago. He wasn’t much of a bridge player, but he was wonderful on the dance floor. I do miss those days.” They set their cups down on the table, thanked the volunteers for a lovely evening, and jostled along with the others reaching for their coats in the cloakroom.

“It’s funny you should say that because I’ve just remembered what I wanted to ask you,” Harry said as he held Mrs. Lloyd’s coat for her. “Besides giving bridge lessons, I’m also a certified dance instructor and I wondered what you would think of the idea of my offering dancing lessons here in the community centre. Do you think there’d be any interest in that?”