The actors carry off this farce with the usual crude camp, semaphore gestures, shameless hamminess, and heavy ogling.

Nevertheless, while keeping a close eye on Melissa's sleeping form, he managed to paw her clothing a second time. Only after he'd resqueezed and rehandled each piece of it did he conclude that the Mexican A was in the big zippered outer pocket of her bag.

cæsar … Yes, Rufio: I am an old man—worn out now—true, quite true. … Well, every dog has his day; and I have had mine: I cannot complain.

A letter. From who? A friend. “Can I try to read it?" No. Why not? Because it's a letter to me, that's why. Were you taking another nap, Mama? Yes, I was. Why come you're smiling like that?