Dorothy Kilgallen is forever questioning but is seldom questioned. Last week, however, television's Mike Wallace sat her down on his P.M. East show and, with all the care of a shoeless man in a room with a rattlesnake, conducted an interview with the sophisticated lady whose friends, it developed, call her Dolly Mae.
With Husband Richard Kollmar in tow —he is a restaurateur, Broadway producer and "discoverer of new talent"—Kilgallen perched on Wallace's couch and primly soaked up the flattery. She calls her husband Chopsy and he calls her Lambsy, she revealed. "We don't have separate bedrooms," she said. "We do have separate bathrooms—after all." He said he would like her to give up What's My Line?, her New York Journal-American column, and all that jazz and write "The Great American Novel." In her closet there are 138 pairs of shoes. Why? "You have to have a pair to go with every dress." Wallace then wanted to know how many furs she has. "Oh," said Dolly Mae, "I've never really counted them."
Wallace asked her about Jack Paar. "Sad creature," said Kilgallen. Wallace asked her about Frank Sinatra. "We were friends once, but we had a falling out," said Kilgallen. "Falling out?" wondered Wallace, swiftly adding: "If it's none of my business, just say so, and I'll go on to the next one." But quietly, and with eyes demurely on the floor, Kilgallen told her story. She had not been able to understand why Frankie suddenly became distant and unfriendly. She asked a friend of Sinatra. "You see," said the friend, "Frank just doesn't like anybody to say no." Kilgallen looked steadily at Wallace and finished: "You take it from there."
"Bye, bye," said Kilgallen to Wallace as the hour ended. "It was fun, like."