Mary
He’s got to come back.
Lee
[Shrugs his shoulders]. Well, I’m going. Better hurry, Mary.
Mary
[Suddenly stops him]. Wait—
Lee
What is that?
Mary
They are praying.... I want you to listen.... [Lee comes over by Mary. They stand silhouetted against the evening sky, a profile of radiance shed on them from the glowing window of the synagogue.] You are going to hear a blackface comedian singing to his God.... [Now the choir can be heard in the noble strains of Kol Nidre. Lee and Mary stand motionless. Jack’s voice rises, pouring forth in a flood of prayer; it subsides; rises again. Here is something of the same quality that he put, earlier that afternoon, into his cheap Mammy song.] Don’t you see, Harry, it’s in his blood.... He’ll have to come back.