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 makes a success. They hate it. It makes 'em wild. Why, more of us get on through the ofays than through the shines.

Now, Dick, you're laying it on pretty hard, Howard suggested.

Not a bit of it. I'll say more. Who supports Roland Hayes? Who supports Florence Mills? Is it white or black audiences?

After all, Dick, be fair, Olive objected. They've got more money, these others.

That's it, cried Howard, they've got more money. That's what I've always said: we've got to have money to fight the system and earn the respect of the world.

Where are we going to get it? Dick asked fiercely.

Bottle it, Dick, said Olive. You'd think this was a Marcus Garvey meeting. Let's not spoil the evening for Byron and Mary. Come along with Howard and me. We're going to the Lincoln to see Mamie Smith.

The show's over now, said Mary.

Well, anyway, Olive insisted, I want to go for a walk.

What about a cabaret? Howard suggested.

Great! cried Dick. Now you're talking. I'm dying to do the Black Bottom again with Ollie! She's the best dancer in Harlem.

Bottle it, Dick, Olive repeated, laughing.

As the door slammed behind the three departing, Mary sighed and settled back into the couch.