 From Hollywood, California, the Lux Radio Theatre presents Miriam Hopkins, Claude Reigns, Richard Green, and Anne Shirley in Confession. Lux presents Hollywood. Confession is a drama of the present and the past, of a romance that faltered, of sacrifice and devotion stronger than time. Confession brings to our stage Miriam Hopkins, Claude Reigns, Richard Green and Anne Shirley. Between the acts, as special guests, you'll hear Dr. Herman Lassauer, head of Warner Brothers Research Department. The music of the Lux Radio Theatre is conducted by Louis Silvers. Before introducing our producer, may I offer a brief suggestion? There isn't a man alive who doesn't admire a lovely, fresh complexion. It's so important to be careful about cosmetic skin. Clever women everywhere, like nine out of ten screen stars, use Lux toilet soap regularly. This gentle soap has active lather that removes dust and dirt, stale cosmetics thoroughly, leaves skin soft and smooth. And now, the producer of the Lux Radio Theatre, ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Cecil B. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. The Music Box Review was in rehearsal on Broadway when a blue-eyed blonde with a Georgia accent, a diploma from Syracuse University and a do or die determination, walked up to the man in charge and told him that Mr. Hassard Short had sent her to see him about a job. The man in charge happened to be Mr. Hassard Short himself, who, being just as good a sport as he is a producer, swallowed his amazement and placed her in the ballet. Ever since then, Miriam Hopkins has been famous for her ability to convince her listeners. We give her that opportunity tonight in the role of Vera Kavalska. Claude Reigns, who hails from Warner Brothers Studio, where he recently played with such distinction in Four Daughters, interrupted his stage career in England to enlist with the historic Ladies from Hell in the World War. He rose to a captaincy. Later he crossed the ocean and made a notable success with a theater guild. Suddenly finding himself without a play, Mr. Reigns took it for granted that his stage career was over. He bought a farm in New Jersey and settled down to a life of labor and leisure on the soil. But Hollywood put an end to this short-lived career, and so as an ex-farmer he's been harvesting hits instead of potatoes ever since. Seen next in They Made Me a Criminal, Mr. Reigns appears tonight as Mikhail Mikhailov. In the role of Leonid comes one of Daryl Zanuck's greatest discoveries, Richard Green. 20th Century Fox Studio was so anxious to sign him that he was making love to Loretta Young in a picture seven days after he sailed from his native England. Today, less than a year later, his fan mail runs to 3,000 letters a week. He's just completed Submarine Patrol and resumes his attentions to Miss Young in their new film, Kentucky. The youngest of our stars, Anne Shirley, is the screen veteran of tonight's cast. An actress since babyhood, Miss Shirley appears through the courtesy of RKO Studio, is currently seen in A Man to Remember, and plays Lisa in tonight's drama. And now for the play. It's curtain time and start time, as the Lux Radio Theatre presents Miriam Hopkins and Claude Reigns in Confession, with Richard Green and Anne Shirley. The cafe in the European capital, a tawdry sort of place, with a spotlight playing down from the balcony, revealing customers for the most part no more respectable than the cafe itself. Now the spotlight comes to rest, and a couple who seem completely out of place in such an atmosphere. The man is tall and distinguished, the girl young, naive, and a little afraid. Afraid of this strange, exciting place, and of the soft words of her companion. The spotlight moves again, and now focused in its beam is a solitary figure, a woman gowned in black. Slowly with her song, she moves toward the couple at the table. The woman in black is stopped, her song abruptly ended. She stands transfixed, horrified, looking at the two in that booth before her. Then with a quick movement, she turns away and hurries from the floor. The man in the booth whispers something to the young girl. They rise to go, they reach the stairway when suddenly... The man turns. There at the foot of the stair is the singer, a revolver in her hands. The man's face is frozen with horror. You were with this man, weren't you? Answer. Yes, yes, officer, I was. Just answer questions. Who was this man? Mikhail Mikhailov, the pianist. Who are you? How long have you known him? What do you know about the shooting? My name is... I'm Lisa Kozlov. I only met him. Oh, please, please, don't make me answer now. You answer whenever I want. The man's been killed here. Leave her alone. I killed him, and that's all that's necessary. I killed him, and I'm glad. Do you understand that? I'm glad. The court will be in order. Order. The prosecutor will swear the witness. Let her be sworn. Do you swear that the testimony you ought to give shall be the whole truth and nothing but the truth? I do. Your name? Lisa Kozlov. And now, Miss Kozlov. Just a moment, Mr. Prosecutor. How old are you, Miss Kozlov? Seventeen. Seventeen. Then you are certainly old enough to realize the importance of your testimony. I remember, young woman. Not alone are you under oath. But the life of the defendant, Berika Volska, may depend upon your telling the truth. I know. Proceed, Mr. Prosecutor. Now, Miss Lisa Kozlov, why did the defendant kill Mikhail Mikhailov? I... I don't know. Wasn't it through jealousy of you? No, no, it couldn't have been. No? Well, then why were you in such a hurry to leave the café that night? The moment that the defendant saw you. But... but I wasn't. It was Mikhail who wanted to leave. Mikhail? Oh, then the murdered man was Mikhail to you, Miss Kozlov. How long had you known him? Why, only three days. Three days, and he's an intimate friend. Interesting. Oh, but you... Your Honor, why should this girl be questioned like this? I'm the one on trial. She isn't. Silence. It is not for the defendant to question the tactics of the prosecutor. Continue, Mr. Prosecutor. Thank you, Your Honor. Now, Miss Kozlov, tell us in your own words how you met the murdered man, the relationship between you, everything, and the truth. Well, I... I saw Mr. Mikhailov first at the conservatory where I'm studying piano. He came there as a visiting artist, and after his recital I guess all of us were, well, excited. At least Laine and Hildegard and the girls were my best friends were. So we came out of the recital hall. We were all speaking of the kind of thought. Yes, he is, and his own compositions, too. Oh, silly. I don't mean his playing. I mean his looks, his manners. Didn't you watch his eyes? I did, and I thought where they were most of the time, on you, Lisa. Yes, Lisa. He seemed to see no one but you. Well, maybe that's not so strange. Lisa Kozlov, you don't mean that you know him. Of course he does. I wasn't going to mention it, but I did study with him for a while when Mother and I were in Paris. Lisa, you're making that up. He was just flirting with you, and now you're pretending that you know him. Oh, is that so? Well, I... All right, then. Where was it that you studied with him? Why, it, uh, it was... It was at the Conservatoire-Eloire in Paris three years ago. Oh, Mr. Mikhailov. Oh, Mr. Mikhailov, I didn't know you were... Am I not right, Lisa, Paris, three years ago? Why, why, yes. I remember you were a very fine pupil, but you had trouble with your octaves. Do they still bother you? Uh, no, not so much. Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend? Oh, of course. Hilda Godfisher. How do you do? Elaine Martin. How do you do? Thelma Petrova. I do. Mr. Mikhail Mikhailov. Oh, how do you do, Mr. Mikhailov? An honor to meet the friends of little Lisa. And now, if you will excuse us. Of course. Of course. Happy to have met you. Goodbye, Lisa. Oh, Mr. Mikhailov, I forgive me. Shh, shh, shh, shh. Not here. You can explain why we are having tea together. Tea? Oh, but I could. Oh, yes, you can, my dear. Remember, I tolerate no arguments from my pupils. Now, I suppose we'll leave at once. Of course. He never really been my teacher. I just said that to the girls to impress them. Well, we went to tea, and when he took me home, he asked me to meeting the next morning to ride in the park. And you met him, of course. No. I can't say that I didn't want to. Mr. Mikhailov was, well, different from anyone I'd ever known. But my mother was away from home at the time, and so I knew that she wouldn't approve. The next day, at three o'clock, I was at the conservatory for my lesson. In fact, I was a little late, so I hurried into the lesson room. But Professor Hyneson wasn't there. Hello. You're late. I don't approve of my pupils being late. Mr. Mikhailov, what are you doing here? Doing? By giving you a lesson. I thought that as long as you told your schoolmates I was once your piano teacher, it wouldn't do any harm for Professor Hyneson to know too. And he consented to my giving you your lesson. Oh, you didn't. And the professor's not coming at all. No, Lisa, shall we begin? Please. Please, Mr. Mikhailov, we shouldn't. I mean... Now, let's see what we've got here. Oh, yes, Mozart's sonata in a major. Quite. The first movement begins with this theme. The basic theme undergoes various changes while the harmonic sequence is kept intact. Lisa, are you listening? Yes. Well... While the principal progressions are unaltered, they are emphasized by... Lisa, why wouldn't you meet me this morning? I couldn't. You were afraid? I don't know. You mustn't be. I told you yesterday. Lisa, it's true. You're not just another girl to me. You're all my yesterdays. You're Lisa. No. No, please, you mustn't kiss me. Oh, you shouldn't. Don't you see how horrible this is? What? Lying to people, kissing in corners. I'm not like that. I hate it. My mother gets back tomorrow, and I can't lie about things to her. We'll say goodbye now, and we mustn't see each other again. You don't mean that. I do. I do. Then it was a grand trip, mother. I'm not that big except being very lonely for a certain young lady, I know. Lisa, Lisa, darling, is something wrong? Wrong? You seem so pale. You haven't been overdoing it. No, mother. I'm all right. It's just... Madam Coslove? Yes, Lona? There's a woman out here to see you. She won't give her name. Well, that's strange. Well, I'll see her in just a moment. Yes, madam. While I'm gone, Lisa, you might be seeing what you think of this. It's for a certain long-legged duckling I used to know. Mother, a new gown, and it's practically backless. That makes it official. I'm really grown up. Oh, you darling. You're the grandest mother in the world. Well, you'll be trying it on, dear, and I'll be back in a moment. Hello? Oh, Mikhail. Mikhail, you shouldn't phone me. I told you that. No, no, it's impossible. I can't. No, believe me. But it doesn't matter whether I want to or not, I'm going away. Well, yes, I... but couldn't listen, listen to me. No, well, yes, yes, I understand, but you mustn't expect me. Oh, yes, yes, I think so, Elaine. I'll talk to mother and call you back if it isn't all right. Goodbye. Who was that darling? Elaine Martin. She wanted to know if I couldn't visit her this evening. I was sure you wouldn't mind. Of course not, my darling. You'll run along, get dressed. I don't know. I guess it was because he told me he was going away the next day. Well, I met him at the Metropole Hotel. We had dinner there. And then he wanted to show me a sort of café I'd never seen. I was afraid when we arrived at the place, and I told him so, but he only laughed. He ordered some wine and began making love to me. He was saying all sorts of impossible things, but I couldn't stop him. And then suddenly the spotlight was directly on us, and the woman was singing on the dance floor right in front of us. Just a moment. You're referring now to Vera Kovalska, the defendant in this trial? Yes. When he saw her, he suddenly straightened up, and never saw her to look in anyone's eyes. And then she saw us and she stopped singing. From then on, I'm not quite sure what happened. He said we must go and we started out, as we reached the top of the steps she called out. Mikhail Mikhailov. He turned back and tried to stop, but then I heard the shots and he fell and... That's all I know. That's all I know. I swear it. Thank you, Miss Kozlov. Thank you. That's all of the examination for the prosecution, Your Honor. The attorney for the defense? The defense has no questions. Your next witness, Mr. Prosecutor. That was our final witness, Your Honor. The case of the prosecution is closed. Counsel for defense? Call your first witness. There will be no witnesses, Your Honor. The defense has no testimony to offer. Our case is closed. Silence! Silence! The defendant Vera Kovalska will rise. Defendant, the court must warn you of the inevitable consequences of your silence in this matter. There is nothing for me to say. I killed him. That's why you killed this man. Perhaps there are extenuating circumstances. Perhaps... There aren't. He deserved to die and I killed him. That's all that need be said. Let them sentence me. Very well. Mr. Prosecutor, your closing argument. Your Honor, gentlemen of the jury. What need I say? The accused has convicted herself more completely, more certainly than could the words of the most eloquent of prosecutors. The crime, gentlemen, murder. The motive, jealousy of the girl Lisa Kozlov. And the punishment, death. You have no alternative. Your pardon, Your Honor. Your pardon. This suitcase has just been sent to the court by the police. It was just found in the baggage room of the Union Station. It's the property of the accused. No, don't open that! Silence! The case is closed. Finished. That suitcase has nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. Vera Kovalska, this court is not content without a knowledge of the relation between yourself and the murdered man. It is possible that this suitcase will reveal that relationship. Therefore, it is my order that the suitcase be opened and... No, no, don't open it. I'll tell you. Leave that suitcase closed and clear the courtroom of everyone but the jury. And I'll tell you, I swear I'll tell you, but you've got to clear the court. Very well. The court will be cleared. Now, during our intermission time, before we continue with Act Two of Confessions, starring Miriam Hopkins, Claude Reigns, Richard Green, and Anne Shirley, we're going to listen in for a few minutes on the life of Joan Smith, a young Hollywood extra who's just gotten her first real part. Tonight, she's been celebrating with her best bowl. It's been a perfect evening, Bill. I love the dancing. And did little Billy love it? Oh, gosh, Joan, you're the sweetest girl. I could dance with you forever. Oh, thanks, Bill. Now I have to run. Big day tomorrow. Good night, Bill. Good night, then, Joan. You're sweet. Here she is now, all starry eyed. What things, Bill, must have said. Oh, don't drag me, girls. It's too late. No, but honestly, he must have been saying nice things. Tell us, please. Yes, please. Don't be silly. As if I would. I'm going straight to bed. I've got work to do early. Good night, all. Good night. Just as if I'd tell them the nice things Bill said. Gosh, am I glad I hurried home from work for my luck soap bath before my date. That soap sure leaves you clean. And it has such a nice fragrance. Joan is a clever girl. She's learned the importance to a girl of making sure her skin is fresh and sweet. She uses luck's toilet soap as a beauty bath because its active lather carries away thoroughly, perspiration, every trace of dust and dirt, leaves skin smooth and delicately perfumed. Screen stars use this beauty bath. You'll love it, too. Our producer, Mr. DeMille. Miriam Hopkins as Vera, Claude Reigns as Mikhail, Richard Green as Leonid, and Anne Shirley as Lisa continue in confession. The courtroom has been cleared. Facing only the judge and jury, Vera Kovalska is prepared to testify to tell why she killed Mikhail Mikhailov. For a long moment, she stands surveying the anxious faces about her. Then, at last, she speaks. Your Honor, before I begin, I must be sure that nothing I say here will become public knowledge. The accused may be sure of that. Proceed. Well, it was in 1912 in Warsaw. I was a leading singer of the Imperial Opera there, and this particular night was to me perhaps the most important of my career because it was to be my last. The opera that night was entitled, Miserka, the composer and the conductor, Mikhail Mikhailov. I'm sure that I've never sung better, and as the last scene came to me, applause from them out there, but from you, my fellow singers. Stella, you do the honors for all of us. All right. Vera, for all of us, this is goodbye and good luck. We refuse to believe that any man is worthy of you or has the right to take you and your voice away from us, but it's evidently too late to make you see the light now. And so, in your marriage tomorrow to Captain Kirov, we want you to know, Vera, that you take with you the love and the good wishes of us all. Thank you, Stella, and all of you. I know that nothing except my love for Leonid could ever make up to me for losing you and all this. I must go and dress. Good-bye. I feel like the climax of the second act. Mikhail! I waited to make my farewell in private. I have no taste for public demonstrations. Mikhail Mikhailov, your gallantry is only exceeded by your vanity. Goodbye, and get out of my dressing room. You sang superbly tonight, Vera. Oh, the real credit belongs to your opera. My opera is but scribbled notes on manuscript. It was your singing that made it great music. Vera, you can't do it. What can't I do? Come on, give it up. Marriage isn't for you, at least not this kind of marriage. An army, Captain, not really. Music is your world, my dear, now and forever. Wait. This is all terribly serious to me, Mikhail, and I'd rather not joke about it. Joking? But I'm not joking. Now, if you were to talk of marrying someone else, Mikhail Mikhailov, for instance... I don't suppose it matters that Mikhail Mikhailov already has a wife. Wonder? Oh, ancient history, my dear. Vera, darling. Oh, Mikhailov, congratulations. Your opera was wonderful. Well, thank you. You come in good time. I was just trying to persuade your fiance to jilt you at the altar and marry me instead. Oh, were you? Well, I take it all back about your opera. It was terrible. In my opinion, exactly. Glad you agree with me. Well, I'll run along. The very worst of luck to you both. An intriguing sense of humor some people have. Vera, what did that fellow want in here? Oh, nothing of importance, but I'm glad to see that you're jealous. Would that mean you love the lady, Captain Kirill? It would mean that I adore the lady. Do you, my darling? Are you sure? Very sure. Now and forever. Now and forever. And there's nothing ever that can separate us. Less than two years when war was declared, and as an officer he was sent to the front at once. But those two years we did have were so filled with happiness that I almost believed they'd make up for all that's happened since. Perhaps the defendant desires a reason. No, I want you to know all of it. As I've said, my husband was at the front. He was even away when our child was born, and I was continually obsessed by a single fear that something might happen to him while he was gone. I suppose I was almost frantic in my care, Arthur, and although I had the best of nurses for her, I went nowhere. My old friends were nearly forgotten. And then one day, Stella Maloff came to see me. Oh, baby, Vera. I'm rather proud of her. And that husband of yours? He's well and as handsome as ever, I suppose. I hardly know. It's been so long since I've seen him. He's really in the thick of things, Stella, but he always writes me not to worry. It seems he has a system. When the shells start to fall, he runs for the nearest general. And you? What about you? Don't answer, I'll tell you. You buried yourself. It's in your face, in your clothes, everything about you. That spark, that... that je ne sais quoi that was Vera Kavoska. It's gone and I don't like her. Nonsense, Vera. I'm the happiest person in the world. What if you are? Can't you be happy and have some fun, too? You're mad just as always. But you're not, and that's serious. So little Stella is going to do something about it. What? There's a benefit ball on Saturday night. All Warsaw's going to be there. Particularly, all the people you used to call your friends. And because you miss them and they miss you... Vera Kavoska! You don't know how good it is to see you again, Vera. Stella says you have a baby. Does she sing yet? How is your husband? Oh, I warn you not to ask her about her husband. She's rabbit on the subject. The man is winning the war single-handed. Oh, how I've missed you all. I didn't realize how much into... Listen, a Mizzaka. Exactly. And you're going to dance it with me. Mikhail. Mikhail Mikhailov. The same. Infinitely older and only infinitesimally wiser. While you, Vera, you haven't changed at all. Yes, you have. You're more beautiful. The same, Mikhail. With whom I repeat, you are about to dance. Mikhail, dear. Have you forgotten? This was to be our dance. Oh, quite so, Zanya. Yes. By the way, Vera, may I present a new member of the company? Zanya Solkov. Zanya, Madam Vera... Vera, what is that name now? Oh, yes, yes, Kirov. How do you do? A pleasure. Come, Mikhail, dear. Quite. See you later, Vera. Possession will seem to be ten points at the log of little Zanya. Who is she? Mikhail's latest. Why? Why? Well, not exactly. At least not till he gets rid of Margit. Margit? Oh, Vera, you are behind the times. Margit was a successor to Wanda. She made her entrance into the Mikhailov comic opera some time ago. Her exit is imminent. There may be those among you who are under the delusion that this ball is ended simply because the other guests have all gone home. Not at all. We, my friends, may remain. Song's orchestra, it is true, but still we may remain until dawn if it pleases us. It has been arranged by a scoundrel named Mikhailov. Oh, but it's late, Mikhail. We should go home. Impossible, Vera, my friends. There is, I confess, a purpose to my keeping you all here. After all, we are good friends and there is a tribute to an old friend returned that we surely have not forgotten. Fair enough. Fair enough. A tumbler of vodka. And each of us chanting till she downs it at one gulp. That is our tribute to Vera. And if she is still one of us, she cannot refuse. Mikhail, no, not vodka. I can't. Oh, yes you can. Here, Zanya. Zanya, you hold the glass while I... Well, that was too good an exit. Must have been rehearsed. You will pardon Zanya's manners, Vera. I suppose it's just that she's young. Another glass. Now, a tray. And the filled glass upon it and... Mikhail, please. I appreciate you. Fair enough, fair enough, fair enough. Fair enough, fair enough, fair enough. Don't do it, Vera. Fair enough, fair enough, fair enough. Not that much vodka. Still, I've got to. I can't insult them. Fair enough, fair enough, fair enough. She's going to do it. Good girl. Down to Vera. Long to the right, Zanya. Who said Vera no longer was one of us? Oh, Vera does. And now I... Well, I thank you all again. But I must go home. I'm already seeing you all double. And by the time that vodka takes effect... Perhaps you're right, Vera. I'll see you home. That won't be necessary, Mikhail. Of course it is. Would you have me let the guest of honor go unescorted? I can go home with her myself. Stella, you amazed me. I actually believe you mistrust me. Come on, Vera. All right. Good night, everybody. Good night. A grand party. What do I do? Try to go home. I'm glad you came tonight, Vera. I'd hoped Stella would bring you. That's why I told her where to find you. Did you know it was I who found you first? Vera? Vera? Are you asleep? Funny little Vera. You say she didn't come home all night and she didn't call? No, ma'am. Madame Kirov didn't call all night. I've been so worried, ma'am. What with the baby and all... There she is now. Wait here, please. Stella. Oh, Stella. Don't cry. Oh, my poor child. The baby. She's all right. Yes, the nurse is with her. Vera, when I came here and found you, hadn't come home. I was nearly crazy. Oh, Vera. It didn't happen. Not to me. It couldn't. It's not possible. It's not... Oh, Stella. Why? Why to me? Why? Darling. It was no more your fault than mine. Captain Kirov. Listen. Good morning, Sarah. Where's Madame Kirov, Sarah? Why? Well, I'm not quite sure, sir. But the baby is just inside. Would you like to see her now? Of course I would. Will you find Madame Kirov and tell her I'm home? Oh, yes, sir. I imagine it will be a bit of a surprise. I didn't let her know I was coming. Stella, it's Leonid. He's home. He's here now. Quickly, Vera. Go up to your room. He mustn't see you in that dress. No, I've got to tell him, Stella. Are you mad? He's my husband. He has a right to know. He'll understand. But not now. Please, Vera. You can tell him later. Go on. I'll keep him down here. Hurry. Very well. It doesn't matter much whether now or later. Perhaps you went down without telling me, sir. Very well. When she comes in, would you mind telling her? I beg your pardon. Good morning, Captain Kirov. Good morning. I'm Stella Marloff. I was in the opera company with Vera. I've been visiting her here the last few days. Madame Marloff, of course. And you're most welcome. Do you suppose, Madame, that my wife is as skilled an actress as yourself? Why? I don't know what you mean, Captain. I've watched your eyes, Madame. They never betrayed for an instant that you even noticed this empty sleeve of mine. My congratulations. Vera doesn't know? No. Well, was that wise, Captain Kirov? I don't know. There are some things one lacks the bravery to write. And is there greater bravery in confronting her like this? Unworned? Do you think I wanted to? Do you suppose that in these weeks I haven't seen her face before me a thousand times? The pity in her eyes when she sees this... It must not be, Captain Kirov. Well, Vera's taken your own. She must know before she meets you. Well, how? I'll tell her. And then I'll send it to you. Oh, it will be easier from someone else believe me. Will it? I don't know any longer. I thought of it too long. If you will, Madame Marloff. She'll be smiling when she comes to you. You'll see, Vera. Well, listen to me. Listen and say nothing until I've finished. You believe in your heart that last night is the most important thing in the lives of you and your husband in this moment. Well, it's not. You said a moment ago that because you love him, you must tell him. Yes. If you do love him, you can't. Wait. He needs you, Vera. He's hurt. He's... He's lost an arm, Vera. Lost at fighting for the thing in which he believes. Oh, you can't tell him, Vera. You must see that. Where is he now? In the library. And Vera? Yes. I promised you, come to him. Smiling. Vera. Oh, my darling. My old darling. Let me look at you. She was right. You are smiling. And it makes no difference to you, my dear. We're together again, Leonid. That's all that matters. We're together. You and I and our baby. What had happened to my husband made my love for him stronger. And I think there were times when I even blessed that empty sleeve because it meant he wouldn't have to leave us again. And I did make him happy, I'm sure of it. One moment. Do I understand that you still refrain from telling your husband of the incident involving Mikhail Mikhailov? I couldn't tell him. You can understand that. What it would have meant to him under the circumstances. And so I determined for both our sakes to try and forget everything. There was no chance for me to do that. And why not? Mikhail kept trying to see me again. Letters, phone calls, ever more insistent. The man was mad. He said he'd stop at nothing unless I'd consent to see him again. And then there was a day when I received a note from him. He had to see me. He threatened me. Oh, I was frantic. I rushed to the telephone. This is Vera. Mikhail, listen to me. I will dog you with you, Mikhail. But please, in the name of heaven, don't come here. No. All right, I will. Thank you. Now. Yes, yes, but don't. All right, Mikhaila. Yes, in 10 minutes. Goodbye. Going out, Vera? Leonid. Oh, I didn't know that. Whom were you talking to? Well, it's a friend of Stella's. She's very ill, and I'm going to her. And Stella? She's going to get my first, uh, the taxi. Here's money. You'd better not delay. But I... you're right. Thank you. Goodbye, darling. Mikhail. Oh, Vera, you'd better... Oh, Leonid. Is she very sick, Stella? Sick? Your friend. Or possibly you didn't know that you had a friend. So ill that my wife, but not you, must go to them at once. Oh, why? Why, of course, it's... Don't lie. Where has she gone? Who is Mikhail? Answer me! No, never mind. Mikhail. I know. I remember. Well, Vera, so you finally decided to come. Sit down, my dear. Have a drink. Let's understand each other from the beginning, Mikhail. I didn't come here for a rendezvous with you. No? No. I came only to make you understand that I never want to see you again. Now, Vera... Keep away from me, Mikhail. You're not going to blackmail me. Do you hear? I love my husband and my baby, and there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep them. Do you understand that, Mikhail? There's nothing I wouldn't do. You know, I actually believe you. You surprised me, Vera. I hadn't credited you with the gift of intensity. Well, I'm sorry. It would have been very pleasant. May I show you to the door? You won't write again a phone. Swear it. Very well. This, my dear Vera, is a most regrettable but final parting. You have my word. Goodbye, Vera. My darling. Goodbye. It would seem that Stella's friends recover quickly. Leonid. Yes, I followed you, Vera. Do you mind? Oh, my darling, listen to me. You've got to understand me. You've been seeing this man, haven't you? This old friend. Leonid, please. Do you want to deny it? Can you deny it? Leonid, I... Thanks. And you needn't worry about following me home. You'll find your welcome here, perhaps. You won't be there. No, Leonid! Pause for station identification. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. The curtain comes down on the second act of confession. And in a few moments, we'll open act three with our stars, Miriam Hopkins, Claude Reigns, Richard Green, and Anne Shirley. This is intermission time. And here's Mr. DeMille with a preface to the evening's special guest. Every Hollywood producer receives many barbed letters, politely or impolitely pointing out that in his latest epic, he used a Strauss waltz 20 years before the composer was born. Or that he made a famous general right-handed when everybody knows that he was a South poor. Or that the picture shows a firehouse on a corner of a famous city where actually there's an opera house. To keep such blunders out of pictures, we place our hopes and our reputations in the hands of research experts. With the patience of Job and the ideals of a diogenes, they get their facts just as the Northwest Mounted policeman gets his man. Northwest Mounted policeman. Their correct name, sir, is the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. It was changed to that in 1920. Now, you see what I mean? Well, let me finish introducing you, doctor, and then I'll give you a free reign. After 16 years in the ministry, Dr. Herman Lasawa is now head of Warner Brothers Research Department, where he worked on the picture confession. And incidentally, he's director of the Los Angeles Modern Forum. And now, if you knock at our door, doctor, I'll be very glad to welcome you in. Good evening. I hope you noticed I gave the proper number of knocks. Six. Six? Why not five or seven? I learnt door-knocking etiquette while we were making the Great Garrick. By their knocks, you shall know them. Who, your critics? No, your callers. Here's how the old London resident knew who was waiting to come in. A messenger rang the bell twice and knocked once. The postman all was knocked, not rang twice. A nobleman gave eight or ten vigorous wraps and a gentleman half a dozen dignified knocks. I hope to be classed with a latter. Well, come in, doctor, and close the door and tell all about confession. Well, our research problems were primarily concerned with the small items usually considered so unimportant that a record is rarely made of them. We had to reproduce the courtroom faithfully, the relationship of the judge's desk to the witness box, the jury bench, and to the defending and prosecuting attorneys. Now, the art director for confession was Anton Groot. He was born in Poland and insisted on OKing the Polish street signs. When letters began to come in advising us of errors, Mr. Groot was very much chagrined until it later developed that they were not really errors. It seems that since Groot left Poland, the language had undergone radical changes and even his own name was so different he didn't recognize it. And now, Mr. Demir, what have you come across researching for Union Pacific? Well, for one thing, the origin of the word highball. It comes from an old railroad signal consisting of a pole and a ball. If the engineer saw the ball at the top of the pole, it meant he had the right of way. Later on, when the railroad man met off duty, the term highball came to be associated with their friendly meeting. Such meetings not infrequently involved having a drink together. And so the word highball came to be identified with a drink. But Union Pacific happens to be in exactly the same period as your new picture, Dodge City. So, perhaps you have a few discoveries I might steal. Well, telling you about bathtubs is like carrying the well-known coals. But as civilization went westward, so went the bathtub. Located in barbershops, they were patronized by the cowboys who waited their turns and long lines after a cattle drive. I don't know what kind of soap they used, but it doesn't require a research expert, Mr. DeMille, to know what kind of soap is used these days in Hollywood. Anyone who's visited the studios knows that Lux soap is used by about every star and studio worker in the business. Now, centuries ago, if you'd had a cake of Lux soap, you would have used it instead of money. In Robin Hood's time, a pound of soap bought a bonnet and a cape. But tell us some more about Dodge City. Well, they lived fast and died fast. I took a look at Boothill Cemetery there, the resting place of those whose drawer was slow or whose aim was bad and were buried with their boots on. One of the epitaphs reads, Shoot him up, Jake. Run for sheriff, 1872. Run from sheriff, 1876. Buried, 1876. But Boothill is not reserved exclusively for gentlemen. Five ladies languish there, also with their boots on. There's an epitaph for Dora Hand, and it says grand opera singer, Dancehall Queen, killed by a pistol ball intended for her lover. And now, sir, with your permission, I retire with my boots on and let you get back to confession. Many thanks. Goodbye, doctor. Always picked to the thanks. Our play confession, our stars Miriam Hopkins, Claude Reigns, Richard Green, and Anne Shirley. Behind closed doors, in a courtroom cleared of witnesses and spectators, Vera Kovalska continues her testimony. The jury antagonistic earlier in the trial seems to have become sympathetic, almost friendly, as they listen to her hushed words. It was but one hope. It was to finally or need tell him everything to somehow make him understand, but he refused even to see me. And then at last I had word from him through his lawyer, a divorce as quickly as possible. There was one person who might have cleared me, Mikhail. But when the day of the trial came, Mikhail happened to have left the country, and naturally the divorce was granted. Leonid was lost to me. I knew that. But there was still one thing even more important. On the day following the trial, his lawyer came and said, Mr. Stevens, tell me, could you do anything? Well, you have my sympathy in this matter, but the law specifically states that where the marriage is broken through the fault of the wife... Oh, never mind all that. Are they going to let me keep my child? No, madame. Complete custody is granted to a father. Complete custody? You mean I can't even see her? In cases of this sort, it's the law, madame. But, but Leonid won't do this to me. He can't. Whatever the law may say, I won't give her up. I'll keep my child. I don't think so, madame, get off. Good day, madame. There was nothing I could do. She was taken from me. After that breakdown, months in the hospital. When I left, I found that Leonid and my child were gone from Warsaw. Disappeared. From then on... Your Honor, I feel to see the necessity of the accused prolonging this tragic tale of hers any longer. What she's been trying to say is that the man Mikhailov came between her and her husband. Well, what difference does it make? The man is dead. Whether she killed him from jealousy or revenge... It wasn't for revenge. There was a time when I believe I would have killed him for that. But that wasn't the reason that I did. Then, as I said before, jealousy. The girl, Lisa Kosloff... And it wasn't for jealousy of Lisa Kosloff. Your Honor, may I go on, please? The accused may continue. Then, Your Honor, I protest against the exclusion of witnesses and spectators. There's nothing in the testimony of the accused that couldn't be heard in open court. Please, Your Honor, don't admit the witnesses. Just let me finish. I can make you understand why. And the suitcase, Madame Kovalska, you will explain that as well? Yes, everything. The accused may continue. Thank you. I... I don't remember where I was. Read the last testimony given. When I left the hospital, I found that Leonid and my child had left Warsaw. Disappeared. Oh, yes. Yes, Leonid had left some money in my name, but I spent nearly all of it trying to trace them. It was no use. Then I had to think of some way to live. I knew I could never sing in the opera again. But I did have voice enough left for one thing, cabarets, small theaters, amusement parks. 15 years of them all over Europe. And all during those 15 years, there was one thought that kept me going, the dream that I might see my baby again. My first thought in every strange place was, perhaps Leonid lives here with my child. But I had just about given up hope when a letter came from Stella. She had word of Leonid. It seemed that he had changed his name from Kirov to Kozlov when he left Warsaw. But she hadn't been able to learn where he had gone. Even so, the news gave me hope. Then I came to this city a few weeks ago to sing at that cafe. I found an old city directory. I looked through it. And there was the name. Leonid Kozlov. After all these years, I'd found him. Found my baby. I copied down the address and I went as quickly as... Yes? I'd like to see Mr. Kozlov. Who? Mr. Leonid Kozlov. Why, if you'll please wait a moment. I'll call Madam Kozlov. Madam? Who shall I say is calling, please? That doesn't matter. Just say I wish to see her. Very well. No, no, Mother, I'm all right. It's just... Madam Kozlov. Yes, Lona? There's a woman out here to see you. She won't give her name. Well, that's strange. Well, I'll see her in just a moment. Yes, Madam. While I'm gone, Lisa, you might be seeing what you think of this. It's for a certain long-legged duckling I used to know. Mother, a new gown and practically backless. All that makes it official. I'm really grown up. Oh, you darling, you're the grandest mother in the world. Well, you be trying it on and I'll be right back. How do you do? My maid tells me. She's beautiful. What? Oh, you mean my daughter? You're... Yes. Yes, your daughter. She's 17, isn't she? Why, yes. Lisa's just 17. But how did you know? I'm an old friend of her father's. Do you suppose I might see him? My husband died two years ago. I didn't know. I'm sorry. You say that you... well, that is... How long ago did you know Leonid? May I ask? Nearly 20 years ago. Then you also knew his first wife. Yes, I knew her. I knew her rather well. Then the... Well, please try to understand, but Lisa... Lisa doesn't know that I'm not her real mother. I see. Leonid wished it so. I didn't. I'd always planned to tell her the truth when she grew up. How her own mother died years ago in Warsaw. Her mother died in Warsaw. Oh, you didn't know that? I didn't know. I was a child and still fond of me. I couldn't tell her. You see, I had no children of my own and I loved her just as though... Well, you understand. Yes, I understand. Tell me just one thing. When Leonid, your husband, died, he left... I mean, your... your daughter is sure to be well provided for. Oh, yes. If there's anything more that matters, I'll be going on. Goodbye. Goodbye. Seeing her well and happy and beautiful. Seeing her in the kind of home that she deserved, the kind I could never hope to give her. I can't pretend it was easy, but I made up my mind to be content. It was the nearest thing to happiness I'd known for 15 years. I went on to the cafe where I'd been engaged to sing. It was pretty bad as cabaret as gold. Somehow I didn't seem to care about that now. And then, that same night, I was in the middle of my number. The spotlight followed me about the room. There, there before me in a booth was Lisa, with me Kyle. He was leaning close to her. A wine glass in his hand that she was drinking from. That man was my daughter. Yes, I killed him, and I'd do it again. I swear to heaven, I'd do it again. That's all your honor. That's the whole story. And the suitcase? It contains papers that verify all that I've told you. Certificate of marriage to Leonid Kirov, the birth certificate of Lisa, the decree of my divorce, everything. But if those papers had been examined in the open court, Lisa would have known what she must never know. I see. That will do, Madame Kovalska. Mr. Prosecutor. Yes, Your Honor. Your Honor. Gentlemen, I statute your final arguments to the jury in this case must be given in open court with all witnesses and the public present. But injustice to this woman and to the girl who is her daughter, will instruct you to keep her secret and guard what you shall say accordingly. But why should they be so long, Mother? Oh, I don't know, dear. You can never tell about juries. Sometimes they'll reach a verdict in a... They've got to have quit that poor woman, Mother. They've got to. If only what a lawyer said was true that her secret testimony proved she was justified in killing him. Do you realize, Mother, it's really only because of me that this happened. If it went from me, you might not have been in that cafe that night. Yes, I know who I know, dear. Oh, the jury, they're back. This court will be in order. Gentlemen of the jury, you have agreed upon a verdict? We have, Your Honor. Clerk, the verdict. The accused will rise. The accused, Verakovalska, has been found guilty of murder in the second degree. Your sentence? Three years in prison. Due to the mitigating circumstances of this case, the court will endorse a plea for pardon whenever the accused shall enter such plea. It may well be questioned why the court is so lenient. It is true that the accused killed a human being. But during that testimony given behind closed doors, it became clear to all of us that the real actuating motive behind her crime was to save a young girl from the advances of a man of the lowest possible moral character. This case is closed. Court is adjourned. Oh, Mother, did you hear that she's going free? She's going free. Yes, come, dear. Oh, no, no. Wait, please. I've got to speak to her. Well, all right, dear. Excuse me. Madam Kovalska. Yes? Oh, what is it, please? I just wanted to... I wanted to tell you that I wish you the best of everything. Goodbye. Thank you, Miss Lisa. Goodbye. We close our play and open a four-star conversation with the true confessions of Mr. Reigns, Mr. Green, Miss Shirley, and our leading lady, Miriam Hopkins. Miss Hopkins has just returned from New York to star in Warner Brothers' film We Are Not Alone. We welcome her not only to Hollywood, but to our microphone. It's been especially nice to return to the stage, Mr. DeMille. In New York, I visited about every theater and saw about every play and, God, I'm afraid, a bad case, a Broadway fever. There are so many fine plays in New York this season, but back I had to come in since this program is the nearest thing to the stage itself. I was more than delighted to be here tonight in confession. But now here's Mr. Reigns, and I'm afraid Mr. DeMille, he's come armed with a complaint. Yes, I have, sir. Earlier tonight, you referred to me as an ex-farmer. I'd like you to know that I still till the soil in Pennsylvania. From a Hollywood soundstage? Yes, back there. I'm known as the Invisible Boss. Having qualified on the screen, of course, is the Invisible Man. I have some 40 acres in Delaware County, and right now I'm experimenting here with some of your western cattle, which I later hope to introduce to Pennsylvania. Well, if you have any trouble with your cow's claw, just call on Richard Green. He tells me study to be a veterinarian. No, that is Dr. Green. Anything but, Mr. DeMille, I had intentions of becoming a hofer-in-mouther, and I did enroll in the Royal Veterinary College. That was on a Monday. On Wednesday, they suggested I try the stage. Well, you may not be Hollywood's only ex-fed veterinarian, but I bet you the first actor summoned to the Lux Radio Theater by the state police. I've been meaning to ask you, Mr. Green, what's all this I've read in the papers about your being lost in the wilds of Arizona last week? Well, Miss Hopkins, after hoping for weeks that Mr. DeMille would invite me over here sometime, I took a few days off to go hunting. Of course, that would be the time when Mr. DeMille would try to get me. So while I was hunting deer, the state troopers were hunting green. They were the first to tell me about Mr. DeMille. That's the first time I ever sent a posse out after an actor. Yes, and it's the first time the troopers ever went 20th century fox hunting. They probably brought you down with a well-directed tally-ho. Anyway, next time I go hunting, I'm taking a compass along. You know, you can never appreciate what a big country you have here until you get lost in it. I was already to settle down, forget the movies, and turn trapper. Well, you made up for your trials, Mr. Green. If you've enjoyed being here tonight, half as much as I did. But before I leave, Mr. DeMille, I'd like to say thank you to Luxo too. I use it all the time because I found there's nothing better for a nice, rude complexion. And I know I wouldn't be without it either, Mr. DeMille. Good night. There's good judgment for you. Good night, ladies. Mr. Reigns, Mr. Green. I hope we'll meet here soon again. Good night, sir. We know you're interested to learn what the play and who the stars will be next Monday night. Mr. DeMille brings you the news. In tonight's cast, you heard Psy Kendall as prosecutor, Margaret Brayton as Stella Melloff, Ted Osborne as counsel, Arthur Vance-like as judge, Myra Marsh as Mrs. Kosloff, Ethel Sykes as Zania Salkoff, Edwin Max as an officer, David Kerman as a clerk, Ilia Braca as Elaine Martin, Jerry Gale as Hildegard, Justina Wayne as a maid, Teresa Carmo as a nurse, Andi as a court reporter. Dr. Herman Lassauer, who was our guest tonight, appeared through the courtesy of Warner Brothers, where he has been working on their latest picture just released, Angels with Dirty Faces, starring James Cagney and Pat O'Brien. Lewis Silvers appeared through courtesy of 20th Century Fox Studio, where he was in charge of music for the new film Submarine Patrol. Mr. DeMille. Not all the cruelies of war occur on the battlefield. Often they enter the home as they do in our play next Monday night. It's the story of an army officer who after being reported killed at the front, returns to find that his wife is married again. Another girl learning that he's alive begins to blackmail the wife. Around this situation the celebrated drama Interference is woven. A great success in England on Broadway and twice on the screen. Interference brings to our stage four splendid stars. Herbert Marshall, Leslie Howard, Mary Aster and Gayle Patrick. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux Toilet Soap join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night, when the Lux Radio Theatre presents Leslie Howard and Herbert Marshall in Interference with Gayle Patrick and Mary Aster. This is Cecil B. DeMille saying good night to you from Hollywood. Join us again next week in the Lux Radio Theatre. For the large audience that gathers each week to enjoy an hour of dramatic entertainment and a chance to meet Hollywood and its famous people. This is your announcer, Melville Ruick bidding you good night on behalf of our guests, our cast and the staff of the Lux Radio Theatre. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.