"Ivo," Paul beseeched him, "I thought we were--pals. I don't want to ask
any favors, but I helped you out when you were in trouble. I always
figured I could rely on you. I never thought you'd let me down."
"An' I won't." Ivo gripped Paul's hand. "I'll go on t'night 'n play 'at
part like it ain't never been played before! I'll--"
"No! No! Play it the way I played it. You're supposed to be _me_, Ivo!
Forget Strasberg; go back to Stanislavsky."
"Okay, pal," Ivo said. "Will do."
"And promise me one thing, Ivo. Promise me _you won't mumble_."