And the Oscar goes to . . .

How about a nightcap?

You know I don’t touch the stuff. Besides, you didn’t bring me up here just for a nightcap.

All right, Kappy. What did you think of him?

Sophie, my love, it was a genuine stinker of a play.

Oh, I know the play is a loser, it’s the boy. He has all the right instincts and he’s learning faster than I can teach him. Any day now he’s going to make the big leap and he’s going to need an agent he can trust. I’m arranging with the coast for a screen test. How about it, will you handle him?

Is there something more to this boy than just his talent?

Alfred Kappstetter, I’m 42 years old. Don’t be ludicrous.

And me? I’m almost 60 and a certain percent of my money goes to pay ladies of the evening, not to reserve me a place in the senior citizen’s column. You, you’re 42, there are many good minutes left for you. All right, I have a full client list right now but I’ll take him on.

Good! Oh, I haven’t found anyone as exciting as this in years, Kappy. I want him to be my discovery. It’s very important to me.

Is it possibly too important?