The movie did have the effect of returning Paderewski to at least semi-public playing for the first time since the death of Mme. Paderewska, two years before. Late in 1938, Paderewski agreed to a short tour of England, where he played with ease and vigor. Their surprise turned to genuine dismay, however, a few weeks later when Paderewski announced his return to the U.S. for the early spring of 1939. The cold, undeniable fact was that Paderewski once again needed money. He could only earn enough to meet his obligations by returning to the United States at the age of 79 to play again for the thousands who clamored to hear him. He had never saved any money for the days when he might need it for himself. There had always seemed some better reason for giving it away. Against this real need was Paderewski’s rapidly failing health. In her diary, a friend said of him at this time, “He looks so feeble and moves about with such difficulty that I simply don’t see how he can contemplate a concert tour of the U.S., of all places.... How on earth will the President walk on the stage during his recitals? Surely not with the support of his cane, which he uses to get from room to room!” [Illustration: _Studio 8-H of Radio City_] He did come to the United States and played the first concert of his 20th tour in that country in Studio 8-H of Radio City, before an invited audience of several hundred and a radio audience that was estimated at fifty million. Olin Downes said of Paderewski’s playing of the _Moonlight Sonata_ on that day, “We had not heard him play this music with such tonal beauty and poetical effect.” The program included Liszt and Chopin, and at the end, naturally, _the_ Minuet, of which the audience literally forced an encore. Several more concerts followed, each of them packed to the rafters. Then came May 25, the day of the final concert scheduled for Madison Square Garden. It had been sold out for days, and as the hands of the clock moved down to 8:30, more than 15,000 people full of a special expectancy waited for the famous old man to appear. 8:35 came, and 8:40, and still they waited. A little before 9 o’clock, an announcement came over the Garden’s loudspeakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Paderewski has had a slight heart attack in his dressing room, and his doctor is moving him back to his private car.” Slowly, not quite believing what had happened, the crowd quietly began to leave, many of them without any thought of getting their money back, for already someone had suggested that a fund in honor of Paderewski could be started with the money that was in the box office. Paderewski had played his last concert.