The dance hall is dimly lit, barely brighter than the cool night outside. Despite the darkness, I notice a discreet glance in my direction. It is an invitation; I accept. We meet on the dance floor, not far from where I was sitting. We smile and greet each other. Our arms wrap around each other: his right hand on the flat of my back between the shoulder blades, my left hand around his shoulder just below his neck. My right hand rests in his left hand at shoulder height.