Mary smiled mischievously. I know what you're going to say: the Mecca of the New Negro!
Perhaps I was, he responded. Isn't it?
I suppose so; only we—some of us—get awfully tired of hearing about it.
To us on the outside, it seems magnificent, a dream come true, the doctor continued, sipping his Sauterne. A Negro city almost as large as Rome! We couldn't have counted on that a few years ago. You have everything here: shops and theatres and churches and libraries . . .
And cabarets, added Mary. You should have mentioned them first.
Well, they are an essential part of our life, I suppose. I think I must take in one or two before I return to Washington. Do you know, it's been years since I've visited a cabaret . . . He paused and with his fork pushed a mushroom across his plate . . . I've lived rather an odd sort of life altogether.
She regarded him with interest, but remained silent.
You can see that I might have joined the Blue Vein Circle. This fact has led me into some strange adventures. A good deal of my youth I spent among whites, passing . . . Later, I reverted to the other. On the whole, I prefer it.
T was sure you would, Mary replied.
The curious thing is this, he went on meditatively,
