The screen shows the London Tower Bridge, and bloke enters with the same packages that langston sent. He puts them on his desk and opens the box with palpable curiosity and excitement. He takes out the suit, takes off his clothes and puts on the new suit. He is clearly elated. He looks at himself in the mirror, turning this way and that, trying different poses, puts on a hat and spins. The phone rings. He leaves the mirror to answer the phone.

BLOKE: Bloke Modisane speaking, how may I help you?

LANGSTON: Bloke, it's Langston, I’ve been worried about you!

BLOKE: My American Bantu, how are you? Guess what I’m wearing?

LANGSTON: What is it?

BLOKE: The suit you sent me. I received the package today. It's marvellous, man.

LANGSTON: That's wonderful. Do the rest of the clothes fit?

BLOKE: Of course they do. You know me very well. Thank you so much for your kindness.

LANGSTON: I’m glad. How are things now? Have you made that big breakthrough yet?

BLOKE: Man, you got to get me out of this place. I’ve got to come to the US because the way I see it, we still have a long drinking date.

LANGSTON: You’ve got to come here, Bloke. I’m sure the US hasn't seen anything like you.

BLOKE: I’m just developing my fins so I can make the long swim across the Atlantic.

LANGSTON: Don't try swimming! I’ll see what can be done this side. I miss you a lot, man.

BLOKE: I miss you too, Lang. No kidding, I think of you every time I call ‘whisky’!

LANGSTON: There's plenty of it in Harlem, my friend.

BLOKE: Man, being an exile in the country of your former colonial master is no reprieve from apartheid. You are still made to feel like a pariah. I might soon not have a place to stay. I really need to get out of this country.

LANGSTON: My favourite Bantu can't be homeless in cold London. I think we must work together in developing your wings so you can fly across the Atlantic. I will call as soon as there is something substantial.