Good night, Barbara.

Good night.

[instrumental music] We'll be starting the rehearsals soon, Mike.

Now, run along home.

You know there'll be trouble if Ms. Iturbi sees you.

Somewhere to thank somebody for something.

She's going to church.

I think I'll go, too.

I want to jot it down before I forget.

Stephen.

[upbeat music] [clapping]

I-

Stephen, you must understand.

Nothing's changed in you really.

You're still Stephen Foster, the Stephen Foster who told me long ago he wanted to write the music of the South.

Remember, Stephen? It was the day we missed the picnic boat and went off by ourselves.