Charles Forsythe, Peggy knew, was one of the outstanding character actors in America. Stalkey must have been trying to get him for the role of the grandfather in Innocent Laughter. For the first time, she realized it wasn’t always too easy to cast a play.
Oscar Stalkey apparently had forgotten Peggy’s existence. “Any ideas?” he rapped out. “We’ve got to settle this in the next few days.”
“What about Eddie Jarmin?” Craig Claiborne suggested. “I remember he did something similar in Bed of Roses a couple of years back.”
“Yeah,” Stalkey said unenthusiastically. “He sure did and was he terrible! No, thanks!”
“There’s always James Donohue,” Claiborne said.
“Yes, there is,” Stalkey admitted. “When he remembers to show up for rehearsal.” He trotted over to the other side of the room in a burst of agitation.
“Why is it,” he said to no one in particular, “that good, dependable character actors are so hard to come by? I can reach out and put my hand on half a hundred leading men and a thousand juveniles. But a character actor!” He shook his head helplessly. “Oh, well....”
Over by the window Peter Grey stirred restlessly. “You know,” he said with an almost apologetic laugh, “you may think I’m crazy, but I’ve got an idea.”
“Let’s have it,” Stalkey shot back.
Peter advanced toward the center of the room, speaking with mounting excitement. “What we want,” he said, “is a man with a sure sense of comedy. Somebody with a breezy style and a good ear for laugh lines. But even more than that, he’s got to be able to move the audience. There’s that big scene with the daughter, for instance. That’s got to be done beautifully, with a great deal of tenderness.”