Page:Nigger Heaven (1926).pdf/48

 I met in New York. Shall I ask some one to introduce you to me?

No, don't. She spoke quickly. She was less nervous now. My name is Mary Love.

Somehow, Miss Love. . . it was his turn to be embarrassed. . . you stand out in a crowd like this. I couldn't help liking you even before I talked to you.

I saw you first. . . diving.

He smiled. That's the only thing I do well.

You do that well. Is it your profession?

I haven't any profession yet. I want to write, he went on.

You're a writer! Mary exclaimed with enthusiasm.

Oh, I haven't published much. I've had a piece or two in Opportunity, but that won't keep me alive. At college they said I had promise. I know what they meant, he added, pretty good for a coloured man. That doesn't satisfy me. I want to be as good as any one. It's frightfully noisy here, he went on. Couldn't we find a quieter spot?

It's noisy all over the place. Downstairs, there's a jazz-band. Anyhow, if we go anywhere else we're sure to be followed. I came up here to get away from the confusion and you can see how successful I've been. Why don't you call on me in New York?