 You are about to hear a romantic drama, Hostage of Love, from Love Story magazine, featuring the love story girl in the role of Frances Talbot. Frances Talbot has a small apartment which she shares with her Persian cat, Ambrose. Unfortunately, Ambrose has a roving disposition and frequently disappears. As our first scene opens, Ambrose is again among the missing. Frances, dressed in rather fetching, lounging pajamas, stands by the open window of her tiny kitchenette, trying vainly to see up the fire escape. It's a rather windy night to be climbing fire escapes, but then this isn't the first time that Ambrose has used this avenue of escape. Ambrose? Ambrose? Oh, grab that cat anyhow. He's probably gone up to the apartment above again, and I distinctly told him that Mrs. Nesbitt had moved away. New tenant, whoever it is, probably doesn't like cat. Oh dear. Ambrose! Well, I suppose I'd better go up after. Up we go. Carly, it's cold. I thought as much. The kitchenette window above is open. I bet Ambrose is in there, all right. Oh dear, I hope nobody's home. Oh, it's cold. Ambrose! Who, Ambrose? Wait till I get my hands on him. Ambrose! All the elderly. Oh, I'm looking for Ambrose. Ambrose? Mrs. Nesbitt, who had this apartment before you, used to give him salmon. I couldn't find him anywhere, so I thought the cat. Oh, would Ambrose be a dark complexion gentleman with an affable manner and luxuriant whiskies? If so, he's sitting in there in my best easy chair right now. Look. Yes, that's Ambrose. Ambrose, you come here. I think he gives the place a nice homey touch. Ambrose, you come here this minute. You know, as Ambrose is evidently not going to come out to you, don't you think it might be nice if you'd come in to him? Oh, no, I couldn't possibly. Oh, let Ambrose vouch for me. Cats and dogs and mosquitoes always like me. Evidence of sterling character or something. Oh, listen, really, you'd better come inside and get warm before you start down again and you'll catch your death of cold. Well, some other time, Mr.... Well, the name's Case. Roger Case, unattached and employed, thank the Lord. Come on, you don't have to stay, but come in just for a minute anyhow. Well, if you'll help me through the window. Sure thing. There you are. I had enough exercise. No, we'd better shut out some of this wind. You're almost frozen. There. Throw his highness out of that chair and sit down. I'll see if I can find some crackers and cheese. I'm sure I have some someplace. How long have you had this apartment? I didn't know. I moved in here the first of the week. I've been sort of living around this way ever since I left for college. Yes, sir, this home stuff certainly goes great with me. I didn't have much of it when I was a kid. No, I didn't either. You know Mr. Case... Oh, Lord, no, no, not Mr. Case. Call me Casey, please. Everybody does. Here's the cheese. It's a little battered, but serviceable. There, help yourself. Now, crackers are in the sugar bowl. Oh, thanks. I'm stuffed. Well, that's better. Well, now, tell me about yourself. Without the aid of bifocals, I can see you're probably the prettiest girl I've ever met. I deduce you live somewhere below and I know you own a cat which is named quickly enough Ambrose, but where do we go from there? Well, I'm Francis Talbot and another girl and I have a little flower shop about two blocks from here over on Jefferson Avenue and... well, that's about all. Imagine that. A flower shop? You know, I recognize exactly four kinds of flowers when I see them. Roses, sweet peas, chrysanthemums and carnations. Well, I suppose I might know a lily if there was an Easter rabbit with it. I'm afraid your education has been sadly neglected. Well, I'm afraid I'll have to go now. Come on, Ambrose, time for bed. Leaving so soon? Well, it must. Hey, look here. How about having dinner with me tomorrow night? Dinner and maybe a movie after. Well, I'm terribly sorry, but tomorrow night I can't. Well, you should be sorry. I'm an ample provider. Oh, well, it's good, but maybe some other time. Oh, good night. Good night. Come on, Ambrose. Honey, would you like some... Oh, you. Oh, is this your little flower shop? Mm-hmm. Nice of you to be so prompt about returning my call. Oh, no, listen, I'm a customer. Don't you know a customer when you see one? Not always. By the way, where's your partner? She's out at the moment. Fine, then I can speak freely. Now, what kind of flowers would you like? We have roses and chrysanthemums and carnations today, but no sweet peas. Well, what I'm really in the market for is some nice, poised knivee. Oh. Oh, you want it delivered or will you take it with you? Oh, just send it to the guy you've got the date with tonight. My dentist? Oh, why didn't you say last night that your date was with a dentist? You didn't ask me. Oh, it would have saved me all kinds of mental anguish. Hey, look here, tomorrow's Sunday and dentists don't work Sundays. How about nice, long drive in the country and dinner someplace? Well, I don't know. Oh, come on. It's pretty chilly up in the hills, but the view's swell. You'll love it. What do you say? All right, I'll go. The drive yesterday had no ill effects. You seem to be your old business like self. Oh, it was the swell drive, Casey. I had a wonderful time. Say no more. As a matter of fact, I didn't come to receive your congratulations for being the perfect escort. Oh, no? No, I'm no longer Casey, the Sunday afternoon playboy. I am now Casey, the Monday morning man of purpose. To be more explicit, I want to buy two dozen red roses. Oh, will these be all right? They just came in about an hour ago. They're very fresh. Perfect. Please send them to Mrs. Viva Kramer, 639 Parkside Boulevard. Oh, want to unclose the card? Absolutely. Here, I'll write it out. Uh, ought to do. Now let's see if I have this address right there. Mrs. Viva Kramer, 639 Parkside Boulevard. Right. Her birthday's either today or the 27th of next month. I never can remember. How much? $3 a dozen. That'll be $6. Oh, you know this. Mrs. Kramer practically raised me. Oh? Yes. Very nice motherly soul. By the way, have you got a date for the night? Right. Yes, I'm afraid I have. Was there any chance of breaking it? Well... the boss just gave me tickets for the symphony and I half-footed it right down here. Well, listen, call me here at the shop in about an hour. Maybe I can arrange it. Good girl. Symphony tickets don't drop in your lap every day in the week. See if you can't make it. Good night, Casey, and thanks ever so much for the concert. Did you like it? Oh, it was wonderful. You know, when I hear music like that, it puts me in 777. Mm-hmm. The management should furnish parachutes to get back to Earth with. Oh, Fran, you're the most adorable, beautiful girl I ever met in my life. I... Oh, Casey, please. Darling. Now I've got to go in. Good night, Casey. Wait a minute, Fran. I... Good night! But last night, it felt relaxed to me, I guess. I knew you'd be here in the shop, so I didn't worry. Well, nothing much has happened, I must say. Well... Nobody came in, nobody called. Kind of a quiet morning. Just been sitting here reading the paper. Say, Fran, didn't that young man that's been hanging around you send some flowers to a Mrs. Viva Kramer? Yes, he did a few days ago. Why? Well, I thought I recognized the name. It's here in the paper, around the front page. Well, let's see. Mrs. Viva Kramer wins the divorce. Mrs. Viva Kramer, 31 years old, of Parkside Boulevard, was a wa... Well, Fran, what's the matter? Nothing. Well, you look awful. Well, I'm all right. Speaking of the devil, ain't this your young man coming in now? Hello. Didn't expect me this morning, did you? No, I didn't. I left some office papers home, had to come back for them, so I said to myself, I'll drop around to Jefferson Avenue and tell Fran how... How much Mrs. Kramer liked the roses? Huh? I can imagine the old soul was quite overcome by your thoughtfulness. Why, uh, well, that is... I haven't heard. I probably won't hear so many people send her flowers, you know. Poor dear. She's probably too deaf to use the phone, and the rheumatism in her hands keeps her from writing. Say, Fran, does a swell show at the Garrett. How about going... I'm sorry. I don't believe I can. I didn't even tell you when. That wouldn't change things, any. Oh. Oh, I see. Well, I... I guess I'll be running along. Oh, my friend, what in time were you two talking about, Fran? I couldn't make head and her tail out of it. Well, Fran, you're crying. What's the matter? Oh, you shut up! Sorry to disturb you this early in the morning, Miss Talbot, but I smelled gas in the hall. I want to be sure you were all right. Gas? Oh, my goodness, it's strong. I hope nothing's wrong. Well, it isn't this floor. Maybe it's the floor above. I'll go see. I'm coming with you. Now, Miss Talbot, you don't need to... Oh, so, dog, you'll come on. Longer up here, all right. Seems to be coming from under this door. It's the apartment right over yours. You know who lives here? That's Mr. Case's apartment. Oh, quick, do something. A case! Hey! It doesn't answer. Maybe he has men. I saw him coming in about an hour ago as I was getting up. Must have been out all night. Hey! Oh, do something, please, please! Things wrong, all right. No time to look for the pass key. Oh, break down the door. Do something! All right, here goes. There, it's open. Oh, there he is, in that chair beside the stove. Oh, this gas is terrible. I'll get the window open. Oh, Casey, Casey, don't. There, that's better. We'll there out in a minute. Where was it coming from? The stove. I turned it off. You think he... No, no, no. I think it'd be all right. Luckily we got here in time. What is it? He put the coffee on and then went to sleep waiting for it. Then it boiled over and put out the flame. You stay here with him. I'm going to get a doctor. Now, don't leave him. Don't worry, I won't. Oh, Casey, don't die. Please don't die. Nothing matters if only you don't die. I'm not worth a single tear, darling. Casey, it's Fran. Of course it's Fran. Who else would it be? I thought maybe you thought it was Viva. Viva? All sisters halfway to Chicago by now. Didn't I spend the whole night getting her packed so she could leave? That's how that darn gas got me. I was making coffee to keep me awake till I could see you. Is Mrs. Cramer your sister? Sure. Didn't whoever put you wise to the case family tell you that? No one told me anything. I thought you were interested in Mrs. Cramer. You sent her roses the day she got her divorce. Oh, Casey, I'm so ashamed. But why didn't you tell me she was your sister? I thought you might disapprove. Disapprove? Sure. Didn't anyone tell you about the marrying cases? No. Oh, well, you see, Dad was married twice and mother three times. This is Sis' second marriage. I thought you might think it ran in the family. Oh, but Casey, why do you think that would make any difference? Because I wanted you to believe that I fell in love with you on the site. The night you came up the fire escape. I didn't think you could believe it, not if you knew my family history. Oh, Casey, darling. That's why I didn't rush you very hard. Didn't even kiss you. That is, for a whole week. Fran, will you marry me? Even if I am one of the Case family, this'll be for life. Oh, Mike, terribly short, Casey. But you're as much in love as I am. You have been listening to a romance featuring the Love Story Girl and presented with the permission of Street and Smith, publishers of Love Story Magazine. Listen for the Love Story Girl in a new romance next week.