That girl's got a positive genius for going after things.
Hasn't she been back here before? Mary asked. It seems tome. . . .
You're right. She has. Many times, but let me see, I don't believe she's been back in the last two years . . . Adora pondered . . . How long has it been since Bert Williams died?
Mary shook her head and smiled. I can't tell you that, she answered.
Well, that's the last time Lasca was here.
Why does she come back at all?
God knows! Probably she gets bored. If I were Lasca I'd stick to Paris. No colour prejudice there, and what a spot to parade her particular line of material! But here—well, she shocks 'em. Certain people won't even have her in the house. She always raises hell here, without intending to, I guess. She just can't help it. She's just naturally full o' pep and she bounces the papas off their rails . . . Adora scowled . . . She'd better leave mine be. If she don't there'll be some fancy carvin' . . . Adora cut a scar in the air.
You know, Adora went on, Lasca did just what I wanted you to do, but you went back on me. Of course, Rannie's not cultured like Sartoris, but I'll bet he's got ten times the cash. You could do anything in Harlem you wanted to with that bunch of coin.
But I'm not Lasca, Mary protested. I'm afraid
