WEBVTT

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Now, the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California presents...

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Suspense!

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Tonight, Roma wines bring you the suspenseful play called The Burning Court, starring the

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distinguished actor whose current performance you have admired in the picture Laura Clifton-Webb.

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Suspense is presented for your enjoyment by Roma Wines.

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That's R-O-M-A, Roma Wines.

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Those excellent California wines that can add so much pleasantness to the way you live,

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to your happiness and entertaining guests, to your enjoyment of everyday meals.

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Yes, right now a glass full would be very pleasant, as Roma Wines bring you a remarkable

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tale of suspense.

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And with the strange events detailed in John Dixon Carr's novel, The Burning Court, and

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with the performance of Mr. Clifton-Webb as its U-Bane narrator, Godin Cross, Roma Wines

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hope indeed to keep you in...

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Suspense!

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A pleasant fire, charming company, and a hostess who realizes that tea served in the Russian

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manner is the only manner in which tea should ever be served.

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Yes, a heartwarming evening, Mr. Covington, in an extremely gracious setting.

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How fortunate that your uncle had the wealth to satisfy such an explicit taste.

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And what a pity I have so little time to tell you which one here... murdered him just last

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week.

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Now, I believe we're all here.

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Ted and Mary Covington, Mrs. Henderson, the housekeeper, Captain Brennan, I believe.

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Yes, and incidentally yourself, just who did you say you were?

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No wonder you police have had so much difficulty with the case.

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My name is Cross, Godin Cross, the writer.

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Oh, well why don't you say so?

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That book, A History of European Murder, that's yours, isn't it?

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Extraordinary, a policeman who reads.

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As a matter of fact, Captain, it's because of my latest book, Poisoning Throughout the

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Ages, that I happen to be with you now.

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Ted Covington there is a member of the firm which publishes my work.

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I'd never seen him until tonight, when he himself told me what happened.

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He went back to last Friday afternoon, before it was then that he began reading my manuscript

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for the first time.

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He began it on the train, the commuter's train, which every afternoon deposits him safely

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and soundly in this charming suburb of Crispin.

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That is, if you care for suburbs.

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At any rate, I imagine he was almost home by the time he finished the first chapter.

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When he turned the page, attached to the following leaf was a picture and, looking at it, the

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young man stiffened suddenly and all but cried out his shock.

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It was a picture of a woman.

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Under it was printed, Marie Dubranich, convicted of arsenic poisoning, St. Petersburg, Russia,

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1731.

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Ted Covington was looking at a picture of his own young wife.

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His 25-year-old wife in an early 18th century costume, the face, the features were identical,

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even the name.

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Dubranich is his wife, or was his wife's maiden name.

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No, no, no, it was ridiculous.

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This woman in the picture was one of his wife's ancestors, simply an amazing family resemblance.

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He wondered why Marie had never told him about.

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Ted Covington glanced down at the chapter to which the picture had been attached.

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It was entitled, The Affair of the Non-Dead Woman.

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But then the train was approaching the station and he rose and walked out to the platform.

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Standing there for a moment, his eyes ran down the page.

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Marie Dubranich, it appears, was quite the continental charmer in her day.

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With the beneficent assistance of arsenic, she had disposed of half a dozen husbands

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before she'd been caught.

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But caught she was.

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She was sentenced to death, the chapter concluded.

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And then beheaded and burned.

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And there, waiting for him at the curb by the suburban station, was the wife he knew

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so well.

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She was leaning toward him now to open the door, smiling in that way he knew so well.

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Ted, what on earth are you staring at?

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A soft fire in your eye.

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Oh, it's the street light, I guess.

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Oh, darling, you're silly and overworked.

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Come on, get in the car.

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Thus, like a wind, thin wisp of smoke, it was gone.

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The unspeakably foolish concept.

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Laughable?

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That's what it really was.

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All right, let's hear it.

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What's so funny?

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Oh, nothing, nothing at all, darling.

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I guess I just feel good.

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Oh, fine mood for dancing tonight.

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Dancing?

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No, Ted, you promise.

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You said if Uncle Miles showed a noticeable improvement, we could go to the club.

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You mean he's really better?

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There's no comparison.

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The doctor agreed with me.

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Darling, there's no reason in the world why we shouldn't let Mrs. Henderson stay awake

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for a change.

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Do her good, the old witch.

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What is the matter with you?

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Oh, it's just that I started to call her a witch.

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It's a private joke, darling.

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A private joke.

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And by the time they were home, it was even less than that.

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Ted was sitting in the living room.

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When Marie entered it and moved toward the fireplace, he studied her as she struck the

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match on the half-stone.

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Touched it through the little roll of newspaper.

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Stood back to watch the licking flames catch the charcoal, then the logs.

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As the light rose, illuminating her face and the lips barely parted in that ineffably curious

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smile, he would remind her again of her fragile loveliness and his absurd reaction to the

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manuscript.

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He glanced around.

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There it was on the table where he placed it when he'd come in.

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Deliberately, he turned from it and then back again.

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The manuscript had been moved only an inch or so, but moved.

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Keeping his back to his wife, he thumbed through that early chapter and discovered, just as

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he was afraid he would, that the picture itself was gone.

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For a long moment, he thought of what to do.

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Then, slowly, he turned around.

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This, this book of crosses I brought home.

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Yes, dear.

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There was a story of a poisoner in it.

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It's funny, her name happens to be the same as yours.

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Your maiden name, that is.

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Look, darling, was she a relative of yours?

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Why, Ted, you're serious.

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In a way, yes.

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I don't mean it's really important.

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It's just that, well, when you run across a person who was a top flight poisoner a couple

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of hundred years ago, and who's a dead ringer for your own wife, you want to hear about it,

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that's all.

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Ted, what on earth are you talking about?

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Darling, be honest with me.

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Didn't you look at this manuscript when I was out of the room?

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No.

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You didn't take out a picture of a poisoner named Marie de Brunnich?

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I most certainly did not.

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Somebody took that picture out of the manuscript.

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Oh, but who could it be?

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Mrs. Henderson has been in the back ever since we came in.

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And Uncle Miles, he's in bed in his room.

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I'm sorry, darling.

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It'll turn up.

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Forget it.

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Maybe I am overworked.

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I guess a little dancing is just the thing I need tonight.

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When they returned home, it had happened.

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Mrs. Henderson met them at the door.

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Ted's uncle had taken a sudden turn for the worse.

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Hurry as fast as you can.

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You'll be right there.

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Marie, if you don't mind, I...

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Yes, yes, Ted.

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Come, Mrs. Henderson, let's go into the living room.

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He had wanted to be alone in the room,

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not because of his great attachment to his uncle,

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who, say, for Ted himself, was the last of his branch of the Covingtons,

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but because he had seen something.

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It was the silver cup under the edge of the bed,

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the cup of the late patient had used for his medicine.

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Ted moved over to it, stood down.

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There were still a few drops at the bottom.

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And then, just as he was rising to his feet,

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his heart seemed to mislead.

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He had seen the other thing, Uncle Miles' cat,

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two feet away from the cup, further under the bed.

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She was lying on her side.

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Fearfully, he extended his hand.

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The cat was still warm, but quite dead.

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No-one must know, not yet.

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There would be a funeral, a normal official interment

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in the family crypt on the grounds.

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Meanwhile, the cat must be buried, disposed of,

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and the contents of the cup.

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The next day, at the chemists, he was told it contained arsenic.

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For Suspense, Roma Wines are bringing you a star, Mr. Clifton Webb,

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whom you have heard in the first act of The Burning Court by John Dixon Carr,

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which is Roma Wines' presentation tonight of Suspense.

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Between the acts of Suspense, this is Truman Bradley for Roma Wines.

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We now quote a brief word from the renowned hostess, Elsa Maxwell.

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I've found that one of the smartest ways to entertain during warm weather

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is to serve tall, iced, thirst-quenching Roma refreshers

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made with distinguished Roma California wines.

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And it's so easy to enjoy frosty, satisfying Roma wine and soda.

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Simply half-fill tall glasses with Roma Burgundy or Sauternes.

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Add ice cubes and sparkling water, and sugar if you wish.

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For a decorative touch, garnish with cherries and slices of fruit.

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And be sure to use Roma, for Roma wine is always uniformly good.

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The happy result of selected grapes.

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Carefully picked at the very peak of character in California's choicest vineyards,

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gently pressed, then guided unhurriedly to perfection

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for the ancient skill of Roma's famed wineries.

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Yet, good as it is, Roma wine costs only pennies a glass.

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Remember, because of uniformly fine quality at reasonable cost,

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more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine.

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R-O-M-A, Roma wines.

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And now Roma wines bring back to our Hollywood sound stage,

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Clifton Webb as Go Down Cross, writer and authority on Murder Through the Ages

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in The Burning Court, a play well calculated to keep you in suspense.

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Now let me understand one thing, Mr. Cross.

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You're simply relating what Mr. Covington here told you.

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Yes, less than 15 minutes ago, Captain.

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Then why not have Mr. Covington tell it himself?

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Primarily because I can tell it more beautifully.

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Uh, Mr. Covington.

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More tea.

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I'll get it for him, Madam.

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Oh, you're very kind, Mrs. Henderson, but I'd rather you didn't miss even one facet of the story.

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Oh, well, I'm not leaving, sir. The samovar's right over here.

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Excellent.

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I think that you should know that earlier tonight, just three days after his uncle's burial,

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Ted Covington sat alone in this room, contemplating some astonishing plans.

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This very night, long after Marie would retire,

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he himself would open the vault and exhume his uncle's body.

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A chemist had been engaged for a private autopsy.

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He was to look for traces of poison, yet,

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Ted Covington wasn't so sure he could go through with such a plan.

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The door opened, and Marie came into the room,

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walking now quite softly across to the great fireplace.

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He studied her closely as she struck the match,

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then touched it with the crumpled scraps of paper.

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Oh, I thought you might have been a little too excited.

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I thought you might be a little chilled.

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Chilled? If only she knew the chill that was wrapped around his heart.

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If only she...

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He stopped short in his thoughts,

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for now the glow had risen against that somewhat childlike face,

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and suddenly he saw, for the first time, the faint wrinkles of age at her eyes.

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Now the light was higher, and there, there it was.

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A thin light creased, like an almost invisible star that encircled the mountain.

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Marie du Brunnet, beheaded and burned in 1731.

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Yes, he was sure of it now. He had to go through with his plan.

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So, by the dim light of a lantern, he set about his task,

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pounding his way through the thick concrete that now covered the family tomb,

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drawing open the great subterranean door, descending to the ink-black chamber below.

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He found the coffin, wrested it from its crib, placed it upon the floor.

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He unclamped the lid, opened it, and then, then...

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The word of shock leapt from his throat.

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Empty! Empty!

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Empty! Empty, you say?

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Huh? Who's that? Who said that?

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I did, Mr. Covington, up here.

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Who are you?

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I'm Captain Brennan from the Office of the Commission of Police.

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Police? How did you... Who sent you here? Who told you about this?

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Why, your housekeeper, of course.

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You didn't think Mrs. Henderson saw the dead cat, did you? But she did.

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She also saw you bury it. That, as you know, was three days ago.

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So, I've had a chance to do some delving.

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I must admit, Mr. Covington, that when I learned your wife's maiden name was Du Brunnet...

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Marie Du Brunnet, child, was really quite a trick.

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Why? What difference does that make?

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Perhaps you don't know it, but that's a rather important name in crime history.

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Oh, but the same name, that's all. It's a coincidence, Captain.

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Yeah, isn't it? The case is full of them.

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Learned most of her poison tricks, for example, from a lover of long standing,

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a fellow by the name of Kroszitov. Godin Kroszitov.

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Kros... Godin Krosk, let's say.

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Hasn't you affirmed published books by a man by that name?

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Kros? Oh, this is some kind of a joke.

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But what's even more interesting, Mr. Covington, is the fact that the name of the judge

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who sentenced Marie Du Brunnet to death by the burning court just happened to be Covington.

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Covington?

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Thurman Covington.

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An ancestor, wouldn't you say, of the man who just died?

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Or was murdered? An ancestor of yours, am I dead?

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Oh, but you can't believe any of this.

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This nonsense about a long time lover and a vengeance through the ages.

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Captain? Captain Brunnet?

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Yeah, down here, Freddy.

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Oh. No luck, sir. No answer at all.

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The place seems to be vacant.

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The Covington house?

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What?

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Yes, sir. Couldn't wait to sell.

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Get out of my way.

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Hey, Covington, come back here.

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All things happened to my wife.

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You want me to stop him, Captain?

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Let him go. We'll follow him.

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Marie? Marie? Where are you?

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It's me, Ted.

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Marie, what have you done? What?

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Good evening, Mr. Covington.

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Who are you?

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My name is Cross, Good Ann Cross, the writer.

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Cross? My wife. What have you done to her?

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You fiend. What have you done to my wife?

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Stop it. Listen to me. Why are you here?

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Why am I here?

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Because your wife, reading my chapter on Marie du Brunnet,

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realized I knew more about the family than even she did,

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because she found my phone number on the front cover of the manuscript,

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and because I know an exceptional case when I hear one.

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Does that answer your question?

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No, you know it doesn't. Can't you see I've got to...

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I've got to know whether...

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I see. Whether your wife is really Marie du Brunnet,

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who was burnt by order of the burning court.

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You're quite sure, no doubt, that I'm Good Ann Cross who first wooed her.

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No, my boy, Marie du Brunnet is no more your wife's real name

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than mine is Good Ann Cross.

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What?

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Your esteemed wife, Mr. Covington, was adopted by people named du Brunnet,

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remote members of the real family of Poisoners.

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I can't believe it. What didn't she tell me?

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Because until I told her half an hour ago, she didn't know it herself.

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I'd learned it through my research.

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Oh, that's too wonderful.

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For years, Mr. Covington, that young woman has been haunted by the fear

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that she might be a Poisoner by blood.

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You can see, can't you, why she was willing to lie, steal a picture,

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do anything to hide her past from the man she wanted to hold.

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Yes, yes, I can see that now.

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But Mrs. Covington...

20:01.640 --> 20:02.640
You mean she's...

20:02.640 --> 20:03.640
Yes, Mr. Cross.

20:03.640 --> 20:06.640
Oh, Marie, darling, you're all right.

20:08.640 --> 20:11.640
That will be our old, old friends, the police.

20:11.640 --> 20:14.640
Will you take them into the front room, Mrs. Covington?

20:14.640 --> 20:18.640
Meanwhile, you, my friend, will tell me everything that's happened up to now.

20:18.640 --> 20:21.640
Having just delivered your wife from the burning court,

20:21.640 --> 20:34.640
I'll see if I can't save her from the electric chair.

20:36.640 --> 20:37.640
Sugar?

20:37.640 --> 20:40.640
Just pass it, please, Mr. Covington.

20:40.640 --> 20:43.640
There. Thank you.

20:43.640 --> 20:48.640
Ah, yes. Truly excellent tea.

20:48.640 --> 20:50.640
Don't you agree, Mrs. Henderson?

20:50.640 --> 20:52.640
What? Oh, yes, yes, it's very nice.

20:52.640 --> 20:58.640
Yes. Well, that Captain Brennan completes Ted Covington's personal account

20:58.640 --> 21:01.640
of the events leading up to the present.

21:01.640 --> 21:04.640
Let us now consider that supernatural hocus-pocus

21:04.640 --> 21:07.640
of the body that walked out of the sealed-in tomb.

21:07.640 --> 21:11.640
That body, let's agree, that never was in that tomb.

21:11.640 --> 21:12.640
Never in that tomb?

21:12.640 --> 21:16.640
No, Mr. Covington. It was disposed of long before.

21:16.640 --> 21:18.640
But who could have done it?

21:18.640 --> 21:20.640
Who could have kept that body out of the tomb?

21:20.640 --> 21:24.640
Who, Mr. Covington? Why, you, sir.

21:24.640 --> 21:25.640
What are you saying?

21:25.640 --> 21:27.640
What are you driving at?

21:27.640 --> 21:28.640
I don't understand what you're...

21:28.640 --> 21:30.640
It's very simple.

21:30.640 --> 21:32.640
You had to get rid of the body, Mr. Covington.

21:32.640 --> 21:36.640
You knew that eventually there was going to be an investigation.

21:36.640 --> 21:38.640
This is a joke, isn't it?

21:38.640 --> 21:42.640
A rather bad joke on your wife.

21:42.640 --> 21:44.640
From a few historical coincidences,

21:44.640 --> 21:47.640
you built a murderess in your own wife's image.

21:47.640 --> 21:49.640
I won't listen to this any more.

21:49.640 --> 21:51.640
Why should you? Look, Cross,

21:51.640 --> 21:53.640
why would Covington here spend an hour

21:53.640 --> 21:56.640
smashing into a crypt for a body he knew wasn't there?

21:56.640 --> 21:58.640
Obviously, my dear captain,

21:58.640 --> 22:00.640
to induce you to ask such a question,

22:00.640 --> 22:03.640
to impress you with his own innocence

22:03.640 --> 22:06.640
and his desperate concern for his wife's guilt.

22:06.640 --> 22:09.640
No, this isn't true. It can't be true.

22:09.640 --> 22:10.640
Of course not.

22:10.640 --> 22:13.640
Cross, just how, for example, could I have been in this house

22:13.640 --> 22:15.640
to poison my uncle and also at the dance that night?

22:15.640 --> 22:19.640
Easily. You simply left the dance that night.

22:19.640 --> 22:21.640
I left the... It was Marie who...

22:21.640 --> 22:23.640
I explained how I looked for her.

22:23.640 --> 22:25.640
So you did.

22:25.640 --> 22:27.640
And you didn't see her, Mr. Covington,

22:27.640 --> 22:29.640
for the very good reason you weren't there.

22:29.640 --> 22:30.640
No, wait a minute.

22:30.640 --> 22:32.640
You were here, my friend, in this house,

22:32.640 --> 22:33.640
just as you had planned.

22:33.640 --> 22:34.640
No, no, you...

22:34.640 --> 22:36.640
Who but you, the nephew, could so naturally

22:36.640 --> 22:38.640
have handed his uncle a cup,

22:38.640 --> 22:40.640
a cup presumably of medicine.

22:40.640 --> 22:41.640
Don't listen to him.

22:41.640 --> 22:43.640
And who but you of all those here

22:43.640 --> 22:45.640
have the strength to carry that body to the furnace,

22:45.640 --> 22:48.640
where it's now probably nothing but ashes?

22:48.640 --> 22:50.640
Lies. All lies.

22:50.640 --> 22:52.640
Why should I do such a thing?

22:52.640 --> 22:54.640
Why would I murder my own uncle?

22:54.640 --> 22:56.640
For the best reason that ever existed.

22:56.640 --> 22:57.640
A fortune.

22:57.640 --> 22:58.640
Stop!

22:58.640 --> 22:59.640
You were the only heir.

22:59.640 --> 23:02.640
You'd get the estate, the money, the independence.

23:02.640 --> 23:04.640
Please, Marie. Brennan, he's making this up.

23:04.640 --> 23:05.640
He's...

23:05.640 --> 23:08.640
Now, now, now. It isn't as bad as all that.

23:08.640 --> 23:12.640
Why, the police can never touch you.

23:12.640 --> 23:15.640
After all, where's the body?

23:15.640 --> 23:17.640
Where's the evidence?

23:22.640 --> 23:25.640
A truly delightful beverage.

23:25.640 --> 23:27.640
Yes, Mr Covington,

23:27.640 --> 23:29.640
I'm sure you'll be quite comfortable

23:29.640 --> 23:32.640
in an asylum for the insane.

23:32.640 --> 23:33.640
And that is...

23:33.640 --> 23:35.640
Mr. Crofts.

23:35.640 --> 23:36.640
What is it?

23:36.640 --> 23:38.640
Here, stand back.

23:38.640 --> 23:40.640
Stand back, let me get to...

23:40.640 --> 23:41.640
Mr. Crofts.

23:41.640 --> 23:42.640
What?

23:42.640 --> 23:44.640
What's the matter, Captain?

23:44.640 --> 23:46.640
This man's dead.

23:46.640 --> 23:47.640
Dead?

23:47.640 --> 23:49.640
And from poison, if I know anything.

23:49.640 --> 23:51.640
Poison from that glass of tea.

23:51.640 --> 23:53.640
Ted!

23:53.640 --> 23:54.640
You!

23:54.640 --> 23:56.640
That glass was right beside you, Covington,

23:56.640 --> 23:58.640
and nobody knew what it was.

23:58.640 --> 24:00.640
You're a fool.

24:00.640 --> 24:01.640
You're a fool.

24:01.640 --> 24:04.640
It was right beside you, Covington, and nobody else.

24:04.640 --> 24:06.640
Nobody else was near.

24:06.640 --> 24:08.640
Too bad he didn't drink it as soon as you hoped.

24:08.640 --> 24:09.640
I didn't do what I did.

24:09.640 --> 24:10.640
Because a second ago, Covington,

24:10.640 --> 24:11.640
we had no evidence,

24:11.640 --> 24:13.640
no body to use against you.

24:13.640 --> 24:16.640
But we have now, Mr. Covington, we have now.

24:16.640 --> 24:31.640
I arrest you for the murder of Godin Cross.

24:46.640 --> 24:47.640
Godin?

24:47.640 --> 24:48.640
Godin?

24:48.640 --> 24:53.640
You're much too far away, my love.

24:53.640 --> 24:54.640
Godin.

24:54.640 --> 24:57.640
Much too far from the flame.

24:57.640 --> 25:02.640
So you've come back, dear Godin.

25:02.640 --> 25:05.640
Back within the hour.

25:05.640 --> 25:08.640
Back for you, Mary.

25:08.640 --> 25:10.640
Far with all the Covingtons,

25:10.640 --> 25:16.640
disposed of now, with the old score settled at last.

25:16.640 --> 25:18.640
I know.

25:18.640 --> 25:22.640
There's no need to tarry longer.

25:22.640 --> 25:25.640
You were brilliant as ever, Godin.

25:25.640 --> 25:29.640
Superb in building the case against him.

25:29.640 --> 25:34.640
Magnificent in the suicide.

25:34.640 --> 25:41.640
I never even saw you take the poison.

25:41.640 --> 25:46.640
And I thought I'd taught you all the tricks.

25:46.640 --> 25:49.640
Closer now, much closer.

25:49.640 --> 25:50.640
Yes.

25:50.640 --> 25:53.640
Closer to the flame, Mary.

25:53.640 --> 25:54.640
Yes.

25:54.640 --> 25:55.640
Yes, Godin.

25:55.640 --> 25:56.640
Closer to me, my love.

25:56.640 --> 26:21.640
That night, the Covington house burned to the ground.

26:21.640 --> 26:30.640
The body of Marie de Brontich Covington was never recovered.

26:30.640 --> 26:32.640
And so closes the burning court

26:32.640 --> 26:34.640
in which Roma wines have brought you Clifton Webb,

26:34.640 --> 26:36.640
as star of tonight's study in...

26:36.640 --> 26:38.640
Suspense.

26:38.640 --> 26:43.640
Suspense is produced, edited, and directed by William Spear.

26:43.640 --> 26:45.640
Before Mr. Webb returns to the microphone,

26:45.640 --> 26:49.640
let me say a word for Roma Wines, the sponsor of Suspense.

26:49.640 --> 26:52.640
Elsa Maxwell makes this timely suggestion

26:52.640 --> 26:54.640
for Father's Day next Sunday.

26:54.640 --> 26:57.640
Show Dad how much you really appreciate him

26:57.640 --> 27:00.640
by making next Sunday's dinner a festive occasion.

27:00.640 --> 27:04.640
Serve glorious golden amber Roma California Cherrie

27:04.640 --> 27:06.640
as first call for dinner.

27:06.640 --> 27:08.640
Dad will enjoy the light nut-like flavor

27:08.640 --> 27:10.640
of this distinguished Roma wine.

27:10.640 --> 27:12.640
Serve cool.

27:12.640 --> 27:14.640
Miss Maxwell has made a grand suggestion.

27:14.640 --> 27:16.640
And why not further delight Father

27:16.640 --> 27:19.640
with a gift package of delicious Roma wine.

27:19.640 --> 27:22.640
Good Roma wines, always delightful,

27:22.640 --> 27:26.640
always uniformly delicious, are reasonably priced.

27:26.640 --> 27:30.640
And the next time you use vermouth, choose Roma vermouth.

27:30.640 --> 27:32.640
Zestful, full-flavored Roma vermouth,

27:32.640 --> 27:34.640
blended and developed with all the traditional

27:34.640 --> 27:37.640
winemaking skill of Roma wineries,

27:37.640 --> 27:41.640
is made and bottled in the heart of California's famous vineyards,

27:41.640 --> 27:43.640
yet surprisingly low-priced.

27:43.640 --> 27:47.640
Try Roma vermouth soon, won't you?

27:47.640 --> 27:49.640
This is Clifton Webb.

27:49.640 --> 27:51.640
And now a serious word.

27:51.640 --> 27:55.640
This great Seventh War lone drive must be a success

27:55.640 --> 27:59.640
if our war against Japan is to be a success.

27:59.640 --> 28:03.640
Our fighting men are depending upon you to put your job over.

28:03.640 --> 28:07.640
It's up to you to buy bigger bonds,

28:07.640 --> 28:10.640
and more of them than ever before.

28:10.640 --> 28:12.640
So please, do it now.

28:12.640 --> 28:15.640
Ladies and gentlemen, next Thursday, same time,

28:15.640 --> 28:20.640
Ann Richards will be your star of Suspense.

28:22.640 --> 28:26.640
Presented by Roma Wines, R-O-M-A,

28:26.640 --> 28:43.640
made in California for enjoyment throughout the world.

28:56.640 --> 29:02.640
This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.

