[_There is a deepening cloud on his face as he moves away from_ MARY. _He has almost forgotten the excitement of the dress rehearsal._ LEE _and_ FRANKLYN FORBES _enter briskly._ FORBES _is snappily dressed, about 30. The two of them bring back the speed and exuberance of the theatre._] LEE Here they are! Jack, you know Franklyn Forbes, our publicity man? JACK How are you, Mr. Forbes? LEE Franklyn wants to do a story on you in a hurry. FORBES First of all, I want to get the story of your life. JACK [_Turns upon them in a curious mood—sardonic and humble, flippant and bitter_]. Say I was born when I was very young. When I was a year old I sold newspapers. By the time I was two I owned the stand. LEE Come on, Jack. Franklyn’s in a hurry. FORBES Stop your kidding, Mr. Robin. I can get some real stuff into the papers about the way you put over a jazz song. JACK What has the story of my life got to do with the way I put over a jazz song? MARY Everything, Jack. If it’s the right kind of a story. [_To_ LEE.] You know how Jack puts over a song. That intensity of his. Something like the intensity of Billy Sunday. It’s a new note. FORBES Yes, and if I can weave a colorful life story behind it—based just a little on fact— JACK All right. I’ll tell you. Say that every morning at eight o’clock I take a bath in certified milk. LEE Don’t waste any time kidding, Jack. Give Franklyn a general outline of your life—where you were born, your parents, and so on. JACK I—I’m sorry, Mr. Lee, but I’m kinda sensitive about my childhood. Not that I’ve been in jail or anything like that. But why doesn’t Mr. Forbes fake a story—I don’t care what he says—it’ll be O. K. with me. FORBES Fine! I think I’ll have the usual East Side back-ground—hanging around with the gang—singing waiter in a Bowery dive—pious old father— JACK I—I don’t think that East Side stuff is so good. FORBES I do. It always makes fine human interest material. JACK [_Obstinately_]. Well, I don’t think so. LEE We can’t waste any more time on this. Write anything you want to, Franklyn. JACK Now, please.... I don’t want you to think I am swell-headed.... I appreciate the fact that you are all trying to help me. But look—isn’t there enough in that Chicago stuff without going back to my cradle days? LEE