Good evening ladies and
gentlemen, and welcome
to the Alfred Hitchcock hour.
This is my new sports car.
I'm quite proud of it. However, I
wish I also had one for the other foot.
I did consider entering
this in the Grand Prix,
but decided not to. I'm sure I
would have won the Booby-Pree.
However, we must be
getting on with tonight's show.
I receive a great many inquiries
from viewers who wonder why I
permit commercials on our show.
Frankly, I feel that television
commercials are ideally suited to this type
of program. This next one, for example,
is most appropriate. It's deadly.
Well, that's the first
part of the story, Victor,
plus the cast of characters. Remember
the people I've called Janet and Ivar West.
They play an important part
in the m*rder I have in mind.
Hi honey, is he in? Yes, go right in.
He's expecting you.
Hello Tom, thanks
for coming down.
Drake? Well, it's a little
early in the day for me.
You may want one soon enough.
What do you mean?
Sherman, will you hold
my calls please? You've
never met Warren Barrow,
have you? Barrow? No.
I started publishing his
mysteries three years ago.
Good stuff, neat little chess
problems, nice edge of lunacy.
Anyway, I've been working
quite closely with him.
He's nervous, high-strung, not at all
like you. Thanks. A day or two ago,
he started sending me some tape recordings.
This is the first one. It's incredible.
He seems to be treating me as if I were his
father confessor. How do you mean? For some
reason, probably because I'm more than just
a publisher to him, he needs my approval.
Or at least my ear. If
what he says is true,
he's going to k*ll
someone. There's nothing I
can do to stop him. Sounds like a
joke to me. Joke? Judge for yourself.
This is for Victor Hartman, publisher of
Medallion Press. Repeat, this is for Victor
Hartman only. Hello, Victor. I'm sure you're
surprised to hear from me in this way,
but I rather desperately
need someone to talk
to. Maybe I'm used to
having your blue pencil
slash through everything I write.
So consider yourself a c*ptive audience.
First, let me make one thing clear.
Warren Barrow is not my real name.
It's a pseudonym, Victor, a new
identity I acquired before I met you.
And the names of the people I'm going
to tell you about are also fictitious.
So you'll never know whether
this recording is true or pure fantasy,
a dictated fantasy of mine or
the actual history of a m*rder.
But wait a minute, does he? You always
said background was important in the story,
so I'll start with mine.
I was married, Victor. Did you know that?
A beautiful girl named Helen. She was
perfect. Everything I'd been looking for.
After the wedding, we
took a honeymoon in
the south of France. We decided to stay
for a hotel on the Mediterranean coast.
We usually took our meals with
another American couple, the Wests.
Ivar West was a
businessman from the States.
In the few days I had known him,
he seemed more interested in the local wine
than his wife. But Janet was different,
very different. I can remember one night
in particular. My wife likes to criticize,
mostly in public. Oh,
let's forget all this and
go down to the casino.
I feel like gambling.
Again? Why not?
It's something to do.
Will you join us? Yes,
we'd love to, wouldn't we?
Oh, no, I'm a little tired, darling. Well,
why don't you let us take care of you?
Well, you got me out too.
I was just there last night.
You're feeling all
right, aren't you?
Oh, yes, I'm fine. Just a little tired. You
really want to go, don't you? Well, yes.
Of course you do. I'm sure your
wife won't mind if we go together.
No, of course not. Go ahead.
It's perfectly all right.
We better be leaving now
before it gets too crowded.
I won't be here soon.
Ah, no, that's all. Ah, merci.
Well, since we seem to have switched mates,
why don't you join me for a little
nightcap down at Papa George?
No, I am tired, really. Oh, it's only
10 o'clock. Come on, enjoy yourself.
Well, all right. Good, good.
Fête bonjour, monsieur,
madame. Fête bonjour.
Fête bonjour, monsieur,
madame. Fête bonjour.
Vien ne va plus.
Des jeux sont faire. Vien ne va plus.
Janet gambled her husband's
money as if she wanted to lose it.
I couldn't take my eyes off her.
I'm bored. Let's go for a drive.
Is she going to cash in your chips?
Des jeux sont faire.
Vien ne va plus. Vien ne va plus.
Vien cinq Rouge.
Now we don't have to cash them in.
Madame monsieur, fête bonjour.
Fête bonjour, madame.
Why don't we stop for a while?
Why were you looking at me at the casino?
Was I?
You thought I didn't notice.
Maybe I was admiring your dress.
Ivar bought it for me.
Dear Ivar.
You know, there's one part
of the Bible I know by heart.
I saw under the sun that the race is not
to the swift, nor the battle to the strong.
But time and chance happeneth to them all.
It means you can be as clever as
you like, but you gotta have luck.
You gotta work for it
and grab it when it comes.
I was very poor when I was young.
Very poor.
You know, you're a very interesting man.
I think maybe we ought to start back.
My wife will be waiting for me.
Hello, this is room 112.
Did my wife leave a message for me?
Did you see her this evening?
She went out with Mr. West.
I see.
Darling, I thought you'd be asleep.
Did you?
Oh, I'm sorry to be so late, but
Ivar kept running from club to club.
Oh, I told him I wanted to get
back, but he was a little drunk.
You know how long
you've kept me waiting here.
Oh, I'm sorry, darling, really.
Charming man, I mean.
What do you mean?
I think you know exactly what I mean.
I think you're actually jealous.
I just had a few drinks
with the man, that's all.
Few drinks, nothing else.
Of course not.
Look, let's not argue about this.
It isn't important.
Maybe it is important to me.
Maybe I don't like my wife staying
out all night with another man.
Pack your things, we're leaving.
Leaving?
Why?
Because I want to get out of this place.
Darling.
I am sorry about tonight,
but nothing happened.
Please believe me.
I know.
You do?
I've been sitting here
thinking what an idiot I am.
It is my fault.
Please forgive me.
Of course I will.
I love you.
Look out!
She was dead, Victor.
k*lled instantly.
We'd been married less than a month.
When I woke up in a
French hospital, the doctors
told me that I was
fortunate to be alive.
I had a concussion.
They wanted me to submit
to a series of brain operations.
I refused.
I didn't care if I was tormented by
headaches for the rest of my life.
It would serve as a
punishment for Helen's death.
Well, that's the first part of my story,
Victor, plus the cast of characters.
Remember the people I've
called Janet and Ivar West.
They play an important part
in the m*rder I have in mind.
Well, what do you think?
Barrow's had a tragedy.
He feels, feels guilty
about his wife's death.
This tape recording is nothing
but a painful self-confession.
That's what I thought.
Then I got the second tape.
This is for Victor Hartman only.
Hello, Victor.
Warren Barrow again.
Let me bring you up to date.
When I left France three years
ago, I came here to San Francisco.
I picked a new name and a new life.
I began writing.
You published my first mystery novel.
I led a quiet existence.
Lived by myself and spent
much of my time thinking of Helen.
Then one night I felt rather lonely
and I dropped into a local club.
Scotch and water.
Well, I'm on my way, and I won't turn back.
I'm on my way today, and I won't turn back.
Oh, I'm on my way, and I won't turn back.
Yeah, I'm on my way.
Oh, yeah, I'm on my way.
Left my man this morning
standing in my door.
When I got back, he didn't want me no more.
Well, goodbye, goodbye, oh, Danny.
Hello, you remember me?
Hello, will you
join us? Thank you.
Uh, this is Mrs. Hurley.
How do you do? And this is Mr.
Barrow.
Warren Barrow.
Mr.
Barrow and I met a few years ago in France.
How nice.
You sure you won't stay a while longer?
Oh, no, no, dear, I must go.
You'll excuse me, Mr. Barrow.
Call me.
Mr. Barrow, since when?
Since I came back to America.
Well, to make fresh start,
new name sometimes helps.
Who was your friend?
Oh, a friend who's also very useful.
Or am I being too
transparent? Not at all.
So you're living in San Francisco.
We have an apartment up on the hill.
Oh, yes, we're still married.
Does that surprise
you? I don't know.
He's unbearable, but the pay is good.
I heard about your wife.
I meant to send a wire, but I
didn't know where you were.
Thanks anyway.
Are you remarried?
No.
What are you doing with yourself?
I became a writer.
Detective stories.
Oh, well, I'll have to stop by someday.
I've always wondered how an author lives.
What's wrong with now?
It's not too far.
It sounds interesting, but I'm
afraid I've lost my chaperone.
Do you need one?
Remote, isn't
it? I like privacy.
Oh, isn't it? So many books.
You have to let me read one of yours.
I wish you had done that a few years ago.
That was the beginning
of our relationship, Victor.
We saw each other constantly.
Janet would talk about her husband,
his cruelty, his possessiveness.
The fact that her life with
him was almost unbearable.
She was good for me, Victor.
She even took an interest in my work.
It's excellent.
I'm always so amazed how
cleverly you put these things together.
Tell that to the critics.
Suppose you were writing a novel about us.
Suppose we were looking for the perfect
way to get rid of, well, let's say, Ivar.
Ivar.
How would we go about it just for fun?
That shouldn't be too hard.
Now remember, he's worth a lot of money,
and I'd be the first one they'd suspect.
Oh, not if you had an alibi.
Well, let's see now.
I'd k*ll him, obviously.
You'd have to be out of
the house with a friend.
Mrs. Hurley.
Exactly.
You take Mrs. Hurley out to dinner, and
I'd lure Ivar over here on some pretext.
Then?
Yes?
Well, then I'd k*ll him.
Oh, what about the body?
I'd dig a grave in the back of the house.
There's nothing but woods there anyway.
Wait a minute.
I've just thought of a rather nice touch.
In the last few days before we k*lled him,
you could go around telling all his friends
that he'd been working too hard,
that he was run down, depressed.
Yes, and then on the day
of the m*rder, you could
take one of his jackets,
leave it near the shore.
I see.
They'd find identification
in his pockets and think he
committed suicide, because
the body would never be found.
You learned fast.
No, I'm not very good at these
things, but one point bothers me.
What's that?
Suppose someone found
the grave behind the house.
That's no problem,
because by that time, I should
have changed back to my
real name and married you.
The police will be looking for Warren
Barrow, a mystery writer who doesn't exist.
You know, it could actually work.
Yes, shaping up nicely.
We talked about the plan
frequently, grew to be a favorite game.
It was all in jest, of course.
You do love me, don't you?
Yes, of course I do.
Then there's a way out.
Remember our little plan?
It's the perfect solution.
That was just a game.
I know, but don't you
see it can actually work?
You can't be serious.
Warren, look at me, darling.
You love me, I know you do.
Yes, but
We couldn't have come
this far if you hadn't loved me.
Now we just have to go
one step further and listen.
I spent all afternoon
calling my friends,
telling them he's been
very depressed for weeks.
Why did you do that without telling me?
I thought you'd be pleased.
Don't you realize what'll happen
when he finds out? He won't.
Because you're getting rid of him tonight.
Janet, wait a minute.
It'll be over soon.
He's coming here at nine o'clock.
What?
I told him I ran into you a few days ago.
Now, he loves Flemish paintings.
I told him you had one for sale.
It's not true, of course,
but it doesn't matter.
It'll at least get him here.
And I've taken one of his coats out
of the closet and it's out in the car.
I'll drop it by the shore later tonight.
You see, I've done everything
just the way you planned.
This is much too fast.
Why wait?
We can finally be together.
You told me you loved me.
Get a divorce.
That's the easiest way.
And live on your royalties?
I've always needed money and I've
always been honest with you about that.
At least let's think it over.
There isn't time.
Darling, you've been so
clever about this, it'll work.
I know it will.
All right, all right.
We've always had it in the
back of our minds, haven't we?
And don't forget, you owe it to
him not only for me but for your wife.
Helen.
He was the one who kept her out that night.
He was trying to punish
you for going off with me.
Will you do it?
We are about to pass the halfway point.
Time will be allowed if you need
to change your tires or gas up.
I must warn you about this, however.
This area is well policed.
Do not attempt to leave your
living room or to change channels.
Any attempt to defect
will be dealt with harshly.
Radar is a marvelous device.
During the station break, an
elderly gentleman in Peru, Indiana,
attempted to go to the kitchen for a
jelly sandwich and was detected at once.
He has been given a
long sentence at hard labor.
To be precise, he must
watch the following commercial.
Well, I think I'll take that
drink now, huh? Help yourself.
Now you know why I called you.
I needed someone to talk to,
just like our friend on his take.
Man, you wanted my opinion.
That's why you're here.
Well, why me, Victor?
Because of the things you write.
Analytical problems with
a fine sense of psychology.
If anyone can make sense out
of this whole muddle, you can.
Well, I'm flattered, but I think
the answer is fairly simple.
Barrow's unbalanced.
The automobile accident
must have affected his brain.
Did it?
Well, of course.
Why else would a man preview
a m*rder on a tape recorder?
Maybe there wasn't any accident.
Now think of this, Tom.
Maybe this whole thing is just
an outline for Barrow's new novel.
Oh, come on, you don't believe that.
You remember the time you
called me in the middle of the night
and started to give me
an idea for your new book?
For a minute, I thought
you'd lost your mind.
That was different.
I was out partying it up.
I was up on cloud nine.
But Barrow is not,
huh? No, this is.
..
Janet West, she's obviously taking
advantage of his mental condition.
She's using him.
Well, even so, what do I do?
If I take it to the police, I'm
opening myself up for a lawsuit.
Besides, I don't even know where he lives.
His correspondence is
sent to a post office box.
Well, he doesn't have a
phone number or anything?
Well, if he had one, don't
you think I would have used it?
And what about Ivar West?
How do we reach him?
West isn't even his real name.
He could be dead now.
Well, it's still possible
we're upset about nothing.
He may just be outlining a new book.
Sorry, I don't buy that.
Yes?
A package just arrived
for you, Mr. Hartman.
Let's Mark urgent.
I'll be right up.
Excuse me.
How did this get
here? Messenger.
It's just arrived.
Apparently, it's the next installment.
Come on, what are
you waiting for? Put it on.
Hello, Victor.
I didn't think I'd be
speaking to you again.
But things have changed.
It's early morning now.
In a few hours, I'll send this off to you.
But first, let me tell you
what happened with Ivar West.
Janitor left some time
ago to establish an alibi.
It was arranged that
she should call me later.
If everything went according to
plan, I wasn't to answer the phone.
Then, in a few months, we
would meet and quietly marry.
I suppose you want to see the painting.
Never mind that, what about my wife?
I don't know what you're talking about.
I thought you came
here to buy her painting.
Painting?
It's only an excuse to get me over here.
I don't see why you didn't just call
me and say let's have it out about Janet.
I've known about you too.
The telephone calls, the trips over here.
Is that the way you spend your time?
Checking up on your wife?
With Janet, it's necessary.
You don't think that
you're the first, do you?
All right, let's get down to business.
How much do you want to forget her?
That's a cheap thing to say.
Like certain cheap pleasures.
Then you're the expert on those.
Maybe she's looking for
something she doesn't get at home.
Understanding, maybe.
I give her everything that she wants.
I keep her in comfort.
I'm sure she pays a price for it.
At least I keep her alive.
What did you say?
I said at least I keep her alive.
You're talking about Helen?
Take it any way you want.
Wait a minute.
Wait a minute, look.
What are you
doing? Put that away.
Look, we can talk about this.
Please, put it away.
No.
Please don't sh**t.
We can, we can settle this.
Give me a chance.
No.
At least, at least let me pray.
What?
Give me a minute to pray.
All right, go ahead, pray.
What are you waiting for? Pray.
I can't.
Go on, say something.
Please.
I can't.
Get up.
Yeah.
Want another? No, thank you.
I, I hope that Janet knows
what she's getting into.
Will you divorce her? Of course.
I have grounds, cruelly for one.
You talk about cruelty.
I know what you're thinking, but
you've only heard her side of the story.
I suppose she's told you that I've
knocked her around and insulted her.
That's right.
That stands to reason.
That's what she told the others.
I was talking about other men.
I don't believe it.
That's your privilege.
But let me tell you one thing.
I never hit her in my life.
Why didn't you get rid of her?
Well, I don't know a habit, I suppose.
In spite of all those other men?
I learned to live with it.
But that's over.
I'm, I'm going to check into a hotel
tonight and call my lawyer in the morning.
That is if
If what?
If you'll let me leave here.
Go ahead.
Good night.
Janet's call.
I didn't answer because
I'd made a decision.
I'd go to her and tell
her what had happened.
Her husband was going
to divorce her anyway.
I drove for hours, trying to clear my mind,
trying to understand what had happened.
There was only one answer
and I refused to believe it.
Who are you? Warren Barrow.
That's right.
Police officers, Mr. Barrow.
My name is Pearson.
This is my partner, Jack Rossetti.
Mind if we come in?
Do you have a warrant?
No, sir, but we can get one if we have to.
What's this all about?
Just routine, Mr. Barrow.
We got a call.
Someone said they heard a
shot coming from this house.
They leave a name? No, sir.
But that's ridiculous.
I don't have a neighbor for miles.
All the same, I was wondering
if you had any firearms.
I just had this g*n.
It hasn't been fired in years.
Is it registered?
Yes, of course.
The safety catch seems to be stuck.
Well, everything seems to be in order.
I think I can explain that telephone call.
Yes, sir.
I'm a mystery writer.
One of my friends was
probably playing a joke.
Here, my compliment.
Thanks.
Now I have to read this.
My wife goes through six a week.
Well, we might as well leave.
Sorry to bother you, Mr. Barrow.
Oh, that's perfectly all right.
Like you said, she was
probably playing a joke.
She.
What was that?
She?
The woman on the phone.
Well, good night.
Good night.
Janet had planned it all perfectly.
I had to admire her skill.
The police were supposed to
find Ivar's body and arrest me.
Janet would say I was
a poor, unbalanced man.
A man who had reason to hate her husband.
Then she'd be free with Ivar's
money to do whatever she pleased.
So now, I have to k*ll her.
After all, anyone would
do the same in my place.
Wouldn't they, Victor?
Wouldn't they?
Well, you still think it's a book?
No.
But how do we prove it?
Well, it's not important.
What we have to do is find Janet West,
whoever she is, and try and warn her.
But remember, Tom.
So far, he hasn't
committed a single ill*gal act.
It's nothing but talk.
Yes.
Yes?
Someone to see you, sir.
Can it wait? I'm busy.
He said you wanted to talk to him.
Well, who is it? A Mr.
Barrow.
Send him in, please.
Hello, Aaron.
Hello.
This is Tom Keller, one of our writers.
Drink? No, thank you.
I just dropped by for a few minutes,
and I thought I'd pick up these tapes.
Oh, I'd like to talk to
you about your new book.
Great idea, putting it on tape.
Oh, yes, my book.
Well, it's a bit rough at the moment,
but I think you'll be able to
get the general flow of the story.
Then it is a story.
Yes, of course.
I hope you don't mind, Warren,
but I asked Tom to come in to listen
to it, and another opinion always helps.
It's quite an unusual book.
Very unusual.
Well, I hope I didn't confuse
you by using my own name.
It's just a device to make
the thing more realistic.
Well, what did you think?
I'll be honest with you.
It does seem a bit far-fetched.
Don't you agree,
Tom? No, not really.
I think it could very
easily happen in real life.
But it's so implausible, the idea of a
character sending tapes to his publisher.
It's kind of hard to believe.
No, no, not at all.
You see, he wants someone
to understand the way he feels.
It's quite natural.
He wants to share his point of view.
After all, when he's, well, when
he's finished, what he has to do,
he doesn't want people to think
he's just a common m*rder*r.
He has reasons.
I mean, he's got complete justification.
He's a very sympathetic character.
Sympathetic?
I think he's a weakling.
What do you mean?
Well, Barrow's a total fool.
Now, wait a minute.
Nothing personal.
But Tom means the character in your book.
Oh, sure.
Let's look at him.
He's completely under the
domination of Janet West.
Like Pavlov's dog, she whistles, he barks.
But he's in love with her.
Well, what kind of a man would
fall in love with a woman like that?
But you haven't met Janet Waverly.
Any man could be in love with her.
You mean any man like Barrow?
No, no, she's using him.
He's nothing more than a pawn.
That's not true.
In this business about recording
a m*rder plan in advance,
this belief in an infallible false identity
is nothing but the conceit
of an unbalanced mind.
He's not unbalanced.
Of course he is.
It's all in the book.
He needed a brain operation and he refused.
Was that on the, was that on the tape?
Well, don't you remember?
Yes, yes, that's right, yes.
Anyway, it's just my opinion.
Your character is weak and pathetic.
No reader could possibly
be interested in him.
I don't agree.
I don't expect you to.
You're too close to it, Warren.
I am not.
I'm completely objective.
Are you?
You must realize that Barrow's
wife was lucky to die when she did.
Don't say that.
She was saved from seeing
her husband disintegrate.
You didn't listen.
You didn't understand at all.
I, I'm sorry, I didn't
mean to shout like that.
I, I get so involved
with my characters that,
well, naturally, I don't agree
with your criticisms, of course,
but I'll, I'll think some more
about them if you'll excuse me.
Oh, Mr. Barrow, do you have a light?
It's strange, the character in
your book has a cut finger too.
Yes, that's quite a coincidence.
He cut it on the safe
to catch of his revolver.
Yes.
Well, thank you, gentlemen, for your help.
Now, if you don't mind, I'd like my tapes.
Why don't I send them to you?
I'd like to listen to them again.
Maybe I was a bit hasty.
All right, all right.
That's the trouble with a law.
A man has to commit a
crime before you can stop him.
And I, I thought for sure he'd break.
Did you see the look on his
face when I attacked his hero?
For a minute, I thought he
was going to admit the truth.
Then he got a grip on himself.
Now we're right back where we started.
Exactly.
If I go to the police, he'll do what
he did with us, claim it's a book.
You know, there's still nothing
ill*gal about recording a mystery novel.
There's only one thing that bothers me.
Why did he come here?
Because unconsciously
he wanted to be stopped.
Well, we didn't do a very good job.
But it didn't he?
Yes, he used the name Janet Waverly.
That's right.
And on the tapes, he called it Janet West.
He was excited.
Maybe he made a slip.
Perhaps Waverly is her real name.
Where's your phone book?
Watanabe, Watkins, Watt, Waverly.
No Janet.
Wait a minute.
Ivar Waverly.
Of course.
He used their real first names.
Try her on the phone if she's there.
We'll warn her.
Four, two, one, one.
And nobody's answering.
She's not home.
Well, then let her drink.
And I'm going over there.
I'll go with you.
No, you risk the lawsuit.
Take the tape over
and play it for the police.
Keep trying and I'll go and
park myself in front of her house.
Hello, Janet.
Why are you so
shocked? It's only me.
Well, I wasn't expecting you.
No, I suppose not.
You ought to lock that door.
I thought I had.
No, it was open.
You don't usually
overlook things like that.
How are you?
I'm fine, darling.
But you know, you really shouldn't be here.
We agreed we wouldn't
see each other for four weeks.
That was only if we carried out our plan.
Didn't everything
work out? Not quite.
But you really must excuse me, darling.
I'm really very tired.
Aren't you interested in
what happened to Iver?
I thought you'd want to know.
Hello.
Is this Mrs.
Waverly? Janet Waverly?
Yes.
I don't understand.
Who is this?
My name is Victor.
Do you know Warren
Barrow? Yes, I do.
I want you to talk to Lieutenant
Summers of the plainclothes division.
Just a minute, please.
Mrs. Waverly, two of my men
are on their way over to your home.
I want you to lock
your door and don't let
anyone in unless they
have proper identification.
But I still don't.
Warren Barrow is mentally unbalanced.
He wants to k*ll you.
Do you understand that?
He wants to k*ll you.
Who was that? Just a friend.
Sounds as if you didn't know the person.
Oh, we joke sometimes.
Why don't you hang up the phone?
I thought we might play a game of chess.
We wouldn't want to be disturbed, would we?
Warren, I'm really very tired.
I think you better go.
The board is all set up.
Just a quiet game.
You remember how it used to relax you?
Choose, black or white.
White, you start.
I'll get it.
I'm very nervous, aren't you?
Go ahead, make your move.
That's a very standard opening.
You surprise me.
You always used to be so good.
Helen was a very poor chess player.
It's funny how women are different.
Some women can be trusted, Janet.
Some women are unpredictable.
And I think you know what I mean.
What are you doing here?
I came to apologize.
Apologize? Yes, I.
..
About your book, I was
too harsh in Victor's office.
You liked it? Very much.
It's excellent.
Really?
It's the best book you've ever written.
Yes, as a matter of
fact, I want you to tell
it to some friends of
mine, some publishers.
Victor's my publisher.
Of course he is.
But he could never give it the
circulation a book like this deserves.
They're very excited about it.
Shouldn't we get started?
I suppose you're right.
We got a lot to keep from waiting.
Yes.
With Janet dead, Bellow was happy.
He was free of Helen.
And now he was free of her.
What he'll do now, I don't know exactly.
That all happens in the last chapter.
And besides, there's no need to worry
because there are only characters in a book.
Janet, Ivor, Helen, creatures of my mind.
I'm not quite sure how to end it.
It's always the problem
finding the right ending.
It's always the problem
finding the right ending.
It's always the problem
finding the right ending.
This is the ideal sports car for me.
It lends an air of dash and zip.
Yet with perfect safety, since I'm only
permitted to drive it on the sidewalk.
We have arrived at the
finish line of tonight's show.
Next week, I shall drive
back with another story.
Now, a scene from next week's commercials.
Thank you.
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