He went around the floor, politely inquiring after Mr. Eugene Norman. No one could help. The first girl he questioned, a Congo Venus with a bosom like pears, froze him so regally and yet with such exciting challenge that he didn't dare speak to another woman. Just alongside the dance band he came face to face with Roy Audibon. Audibon slid his address book into his pocket and shook hands. He was a little drunk. "What? The Thinker in the fleshpots? No hunting here, Jake. This is my private jungle." "You can have it, Roy." "I already got it, son. What's the matter?" "I don't like it here." "Don't like it? Look around. Enjoy. What can't you like?" "Myself. We're intruding. Doesn't it make you feel cheap?" "Makes me feel one thing, son, and that doesn't come cheap. You alone? Let's bleed the lizard." Lennox hesitated. "I'm looking for a man named Norman." "Looking for a man? Here? Man, your loins need regrinding." Audibon left him abruptly and tapped a dark brown girl on the nape of the neck. She turned and revealed a classic Egyptian face with high cheekbones and wide deep-set eyes. Audibon spoke a few words and then swept her out onto the dance floor. Lennox went out to the foyer to enlist the manager in his search. He was informed that the manager was in the john. He investigated, but the john was empty. As Lennox was about to leave, the door opened and one of the upswept blondes entered. "Excuse m-me--" Lennox stammered. "You're in the--" "Hello Beulah," she said in a shrill fag's falsetto. "My God!" Lennox was appalled. "You're in drag? I never--" The fag blocked the door and regarded him seductively. "You're such a fast one," he said. "Miss Track Meet making her appointed rounds. Who were you looking for? Pretty me?" "Listen," Lennox said, trying to be patient. "You're cruising the wrong number, girl. Would you mind getting out of the way?" "Mary! She's in such a hurry," the fag giggled without moving. Lennox took his elbow and shoved politely. Suddenly he lost control and slammed the blonde violently against the wall. He let out a piercing, falsetto shriek. Lennox yanked open the door and ran. As he crossed the dance floor to his table, a large ebony hand reached out and stopped him. He turned and there was Gabby dancing with a powerful bald-headed gentleman whose skin was stretched so tightly across the big bones of his head that his face looked skeletal. "Cool, Clarence," he said in a foggy voice. "Here's yuh chick. No, honey, yuh haven't got it right. It's a one and a tuh and a zig-zag-zig!" "Mr. Norman?" "Eugene K. hisself." "He's a dance teacher," Gabby said. "I'm getting a free introductory lesson." "Got tuh educate Mrs. Clarence's rhythm," Norman said. "He says I dance Square."