 Now, the Roma Wine Company of Fresno, California presents Suspense. Tonight, Roma Wines bring you the remarkable young actress whose performance you have admired in the Warner Brothers production, The Corn is Green. Miss Joan Loring as star of A Man in the House, a suspense play produced, edited and directed for Roma Wines by William Spear. Suspense, radio's outstanding theater of thrills, is presented for your enjoyment by Roma Wines. That's R-O-M-A. Roma Wines, those excellent California wines that can add so much pleasantness to the way you live. To your happiness in entertaining guests, to your enjoyment of everyday meals. Yes, right now, a glassful would be very pleasant, as Roma Wines bring you Joan Loring in a remarkable tale of suspense. When I was 17, they called me that pretty little barrette girl. I never imagined then that five years later I'd be working in the public library day after day and two evenings a week. One of the mousy, tight, mild librarians who frown and wrap a pencil when the adolescent scuffling and giggling becomes a little too unruly. I never dreamed that pretty little barrette girl would become Prim Miss Barrett, nor that my mother would... Well, one evening, my father came home from the office, looking a little more tired than usual. He barely touched his dinner and said he thought he'd lie down on the sofa for a nap. Three hours later, he was dead. From that day, mother was a changed woman, and our house was a changed house. She became suspicious and bitter and solitary. After a time, people stopped coming to visit, and Ted Roper learned not to call for me. I suppose I should have rebelled that I was never a rebellious spirit, and I knew Dad would have expected me to stand by her. And so in a year or two, things had completely changed for me. I was working at the library, stamping cards and checking books and wrapping on the desk when the giggling became too loud in the corner. Ted Roper went away to school, studying to be a doctor. And by the time he came home to set up his own practice, he was called up for the medical corps. I'd get postcards from him from time to time, and meanwhile I worked at the library and came home and cared for mother, because her health had grown progressively worse. Now she was in a wheelchair and always in pain, although she'd never consent to see a doctor. I was thinking of all these things that night as I walked home from my evening session at the library. Maybe it was because Ted was back in town. He had his medical discharge and he set up practice again. He'd come to the house once, and I knew he wouldn't want to come back again. And so I walked home alone in the dark thinking how once they had said... There goes that pretty little bird girl. But now they said... What Emily Barrett and her mother need is a man in the house. I looked up at our house. It was shabby and run down. And the vacant plots on either side of it and across the street were wild with unkempt weeds and grass. A single light was burning in mother's room. The rest of the house was dark. I opened the gate and then I stumbled a little. Something soft and yet unyielding was at my feet. And somehow my blood went cold as I reached down and my hand touched something still and lifeless. It was my little wirehead terrier. He was dead. Close the door. Who are you? Not a sound out of you. Close the door. Who are you? What are you doing here? Don't turn on the light. Just stay where you are. Mother, are you all right? I haven't harmed her yet. I won't harm you if you do what I tell you. But if you annoy me as Rover annoyed me outside, you did call him Rover, didn't you, Miss Barrett? What are you doing in our house? I'm your guest, Miss Barrett. I trust your hospitality. We'll measure up to the standards I set for you. May I turn on the light? No, don't move. I'll do it. You find my hand cold on your arm. I didn't expect it. The light switches to your left, isn't it? Yes. I misjudged a little. That's why I touched you. It might have been better to have stayed in the dark, you see. He was ugly. His face was horribly scarred. The entire left side of it was drawn out of shape by the rigid, livid skin. The scar tissue seemed to distort his features into something evil and unclean. I'm not the most handsome guest you've ever had, am I? Oh, Mother, don't cry. I'm here now. Don't cry. Oh, I'm frightened. I'm so frightened. You'll only work yourself up by crying. Try not to, dear. It would be advisable for her to stop whining. It annoys me. Please, Mother, please, dear. And Rover annoyed me, you know. What are we going to do, Emily? Why is he coming here? I'm your guest, Madam. If it's money, you might... I've told you I'm your guest. I seek food and shelter as befits a guest. And you mustn't make one feel unwelcome. He's mad, Emily. He's a mad man. You mustn't say that, Madam. He killed the dog, then he sneaked into the house. He's been through every room. He has your father's revolver and he wouldn't turn on the lights except the one in my room. He made me wait here in the dark for you. Oh, Mother. Oh, Emily. Stop that whining. It annoys me. Don't you hurt me. Don't you dare. Mother, please, please, dear. You annoy me, Madam. I suggest you retire for the night. Oh, Emily, no. I couldn't. I couldn't. You'll be good enough to take your mother into her bedroom, Miss Barrett. What are you going to do? I still do. I'm your guest. Well, Miss Barrett? Come along, Mother. Let me wheel you into your room. Oh, I don't want to, Emily. I don't want to. Nothing. No conveyance needs oiling, Madam. Don't speak to me. Don't talk to me. By the way, Miss Barrett... Yes? Don't trouble the close of the door. And don't attempt to talk secretly with one another. I find it a very annoying habit. Emily is mad. She's insane. I don't know what I've ever done that this should happen to me. Try to be calm, Mother. Let me help you now. Lie down on the bed, why don't you, dear? Try to relax. I couldn't. I couldn't. But if you could get some rest, you'd feel so much better. I'm not getting out of this wheelchair. But if you could let yourself sleep. No, I tell you I can't, Emily. If you just take one of your pills, Mother... What was that? What did you say? Answer me. My mother ordinarily takes sleeping pills for her insomnia. Not tonight, Emily. I won't take them tonight. I could. I think you will, Madam. No. No, I won't. You can't make me. Is that her bottle on the bedside table? Yes. How many does she take? One or two. Go on, give them to her. What'll you do if she sleeps? Wait and rest. Wait under the shelter of your roof. No. You promise me I'll be at her side when she wakes in the morning? Yes. I promise. I'll go and give her the tablets. No, I won't. Very well. Take them now, Mother. Mother swallowed the sleeping tablets with difficulty, her eyes wide with fear, unable to look away from that scarred, awful face. Then he walked away into the living room while I stood by her wheelchair holding her hand. After eternities her eyelids drooped and closed over the frightened eyes, her face relaxed. She was asleep. I made her as comfortable as possible in the wheelchair, put a blanket over her. Turn out the light and come out here. Did you hear me? Yes. Sit down. Yes, that chair there. Um... How do you spend your evenings, Miss Barrett? Uh, you read? No, no, not often. I get enough of books at work. Why did you break... Really? Um, what do you do for a livelihood? I'm a librarian. Why did you choose out... You don't usually stay up late, do you? No, I don't. In that case, then, we'll turn off the light. You're rather isolated this end of the street, but someone might wonder why lights are burning in the Barrett house of this hour. So uncomfortably, Miss Barrett. Lean back. Be at ease. Why don't you leave us in peace? We won't give you away. I need rest. The safety of rest and solitude. But why our house? Why? Because you have few visitors. Your mother's to blame, isn't she? My mother? Weak, selfish, complaining. Not the most delightful of companions. And you're a librarian, you say? How long do you intend to stay here? Curiosity annoys me. I shall stay here as long as I please for a very long time, if need be. You can't. You'll be found out. I doubt that very much. But if I fail to report for work... You won't. I don't understand. You will go to work at the library, as usual. And leave my mother here with you? Yes, yes. As a hostage, shall we say. Hostage? She'll be my guarantee you won't betray me. Don't go to the police, Miss Barrett. You will not make any indiscreet disclosures to anyone. You'll work at your job all day and then come back here. And if I don't? Need you ask that question? Is it really necessary to ask me that? No. No. Standing theatre of thrills. Suspense. Between the acts of suspense, this is Ted Meyers for Roma Wines. Elsa Maxwell is famous not only as a hostess, but also for her helpful suggestions on how to entertain more graciously. Recently she said, next time you have friends for dinner, add to their enjoyment of the food and give the occasion a gracious festive touch by serving distinguished Roma California Burgundy. Even when ration points are low, your simple menus take on added glamour, added flavor goodness with Roma Burgundy. Serve cool. Yes, Elsa Maxwell's suggestion is one that lends enchantment to dining. You'll enjoy Roma Burgundy. It's tart pecancy. It's fruity, robust taste. The happy result of selecting and gently pressing luscious grapes from California's choicest vineyards, guided to flavor perfection unhurriedly by Roma's ancient wine skill. Good Roma wines never vary. They're always enjoyable, yet cost only pennies a glass. Remember, because of uniformly fine quality at reasonable cost, more Americans enjoy Roma than any other wine. R-O-M-A. Roma wines. And now Roma wines bring back to our Hollywood soundstage, Joan Loring as Emily Barrett with Joseph Kearns as the man in the house in a radio play well calculated to keep you in suspense. The rest of the night passed in silence. He didn't speak to me again, and yet I knew he was staring at me from his chair, staring at me in the dark, except for the single time he moved to bring the dog into the house. I was still frightened, so frightened, but it was the morning I thought of, the morning when I would have to leave mother along with him. We ate breakfast together, the three of us, silent at the table. His face was uglier than ever in the morning light. He'd watch me prepare breakfast with wary eyes. Now he wolfed his food down as though he hadn't eaten in some time. You're not hungry? No. And you, madam? I'm not hungry. I'm sorry to hear that. Is it time for you to leave, Miss Barrett? Leave? Emily, what does he mean? Your daughter has a job, Mrs. Barrett. You wouldn't want her to leave it, would you? Emily, no. You can't leave me here. You can't. You'll be all right, mother. Really. You will. It's the only thing I can do. Emily, no, please. You'd better go, Miss Barrett. And remember your responsibility. Yes. Yes, I'll remember. My day was a nightmare. I performed my duties automatically, and all the time my mind raced with speculation. Have you got the magnificent obsession? What was he doing? Was mother all right? How could I possibly get him out of the house? I couldn't tell anybody. I knew that. I didn't dare. He'd kill her in a minute. My cards expired. For mother's sake, I had to keep silent. I had to. I had to. And meanwhile, stamp books, stamp books, stamp books. Give me the key. Mother! I'm here, Emily. See, I told you she was all right. Come on, give me the key. That evening, I didn't have to go back to the library. Again, he watched me prepare our meal, and again, he wolfed his food down, while mother and I left our plates untouched. I washed and dried the dishes after dinner, and then all three of us sat in the living room. Oh. This is an ugly house. A barren house. There's no laughter in it. I'm not interested in what you think of our house. Well, you should be. You're still young. Your life is being ruined by this selfish woman. How dare you! I'm sick. I'm not well. It's wicked of you to come into my house this way and say such things. He's evil, Emily. He burned the dog in the furnace. All right. And you're evil too, madam. You're a selfish parasite. The world would be better rid of you. Well, I'm going to your room. No! No, I don't care what you do to me. We have no money. We haven't anything you could want. Get out of our house! Get out! Take her into her room, Miss Barrett. Come along, mother. Please don't excite yourself. You won't make things any easier this way. It's time she slept, Miss Barrett. I don't want to. I don't want to sleep. I'm so afraid. You're stubborn and weak and useless. You're a blood-sucking parasite. Give her her pills, Miss Barrett. It's time she slept. Mother refused to leave her wheelchair again, but I persuaded her to take her sleeping tablets. And after she'd fallen asleep, I returned to the living room. He sat in the chair where he could watch the door and windows. One side of his face was twitching. A nervous tick he couldn't control. You permitted your mother to ruin your life. That isn't true. Of course it's true. I know. I've seen it happen before. I know all about it. I've been trapped just as you're trapped now by your mother. I won't stand for you talking like that. I know about women, domineering women. There was one... Well, she'll never bother me again. You killed someone. Did I? That's why you're hiding here. Is it? Did you kill someone? I'm not sure. Maybe someone annoyed me. I'll kill if anyone annoys me. Don't annoy me, Miss Barrett. Tell your mother not to annoy me. That night went by, crawled by as the first night had done. At 10.30 he switched off the light and then we were sitting in the dark again in silence, hour after hour. When morning came I was wretched and haggard and I knew I had to do as he said, leave the house again. I had no other choice. I had to leave mother with him. I would have to go about my duties as usual. For a moment I thought of going for help but I knew that he'd do what he'd do to her if someone even approached the house. And then as I came down the front steps my heart almost stopped for Ted Roper was coming up the front path. Good morning, Emily. Hello. I'd heard your mother wasn't too well. I thought I'd drop in a minute and see her. Oh, no, no, I don't think you'd better. She's asleep. Oh, that's too bad. I wish I'd stopped in last night. I was in the neighborhood. I was just on the verge of knocking on your door and I noticed your lights were out. Oh, yes. We retired early. Is there something wrong, Emily? No, no, there isn't. You look worn out. Getting plenty of sleep? Yes, yes, I am. And as he stood there chattering on about my mother and my health I could see the curtain in the living room move. He was watching us. He could probably hear every word that was being said. Emily, you're not listening. Are you well? Of course I'm well. Will you leave me alone, Ted? Of course, if that's what you feel. I'm sorry, Ted, but I have a headache. I'd appreciate it if you'd go on. Certainly. And as Ted disappeared down the street I turned and looked into the window. He was standing there back of the curtain, smiling as if in approval. I don't know how I managed to get through that afternoon, but I did. And then I went home and they were there. When I'd seen that mother was all right, I cooked dinner and he tried to keep up a conversation. We, uh, had visitors today, didn't we, Mrs. Barrett? Milkman, mailman. No letters, however. Just a magazine. And we had an interesting talk, didn't we, Mrs. Barrett? About mothers and daughters, you know? I looked at mother across the table. The panic in her eyes had given away to another emotion. One hard to name at first. And then I realized it was resignation, as though she were resigned to her fear. Her face was peaceful, strangely serene, and she looked more beautiful than I'd ever remember seeing her. After dinner we sat silent in the living room. He looked tired, deep circles under his eyes, and his face twitched involuntarily. I felt unbearably tired, my eyes so heavy. Uh, Mrs. Barrett, I think you'd better go to bed. Go to bed? You'll sleep. No, I couldn't. There's no excuse for not sleeping. You see how easily your mother can do it. You'll take some of her tablets. No. Take them. But my mother... She'll take them too. She knows how. And then I knew why he wanted me to take the pills. He needed sleep for himself. Uh, here, Mrs. Barrett. All at once I had no resistance left in me. I took the water from him. He was leaning over me in the chair, and then I swallowed the tablets. Sleep couldn't have come immediately, and yet somehow it was swift, like a black curtain shrouding my mind. I woke, he was still asleep in the chair, facing the door and the windows. But the moment I moved... Good morning. Where's my mother? In her room, of course. Mother was still sleeping in her wheelchair. But something was wrong. She looked so strange. Something was radically wrong. She was ill. My first impulse was to cry out, to run to him and plead with him to help me. But I knew that was useless. I turned around knowing I shouldn't leave her, and yet I was powerless to help her. It's late. I won't have time to make breakfast this morning. Yes, we seemed to have overslept, didn't we? I'll have to go now. The key. Please unlock the door. Mother's still sleeping. Please don't disturb her. That still depends upon you, Miss Barrett. Have you forgotten? I left the house desperate with fear. Mother had to have medical attention immediately, and yet I didn't dare call anyone in. I didn't dare do anything that would endanger her life. I didn't know what to do. I walked blindly and rapidly along the sidewalk, almost running, not knowing where I was going. And then I saw Ted. Hello, Emily. Your headache better? Oh, Ted. What's wrong? What is it, Emily? Ted, you've got to help me. You've got to. Here's my car, Emily. Sit down now. Tell me what's wrong. And then I told him the whole story. And when I'd finished, he said... I'd better go to your house at once. You can't. I can't let you in the house. You won't have to. I'm not letting you go back there. But I must. I can't leave Mother with him. All right, then. Go back to the house. Tell him you went for a doctor. I couldn't. Tell him that, Emily. Tell him you saw your mother was ill when you woke up. Tell him you called a doctor, and you said nothing about him being in the house. He won't believe me. I know he won't. We've got the gamble, he will. I'll drive you back to the corner. Give you time to walk to the house and explain things to him. Then I'll make my call. And then what, Ted? What will we do then? I don't know, honey. But do as I say. It's all we can do just now. When I faced him again in the house, I knew I'd blundered. I should never have taken the chance. I shouldn't have left Mother in the first place. What are you doing back here? Why aren't you at the library? I didn't go to the library. What? My mother's sick. I called for a doctor. You what? I phoned for a doctor. He'll be here soon. You told him about me? No, I didn't. You're lying. You're lying about your mother. You've tricked me. My mother's ill, I tell you. She was sick when I looked at her this morning. You must believe that. We'll find out. Come on in the bedroom. No, wait. The doctor's here. You see, he's coming up the walk. Don't let him in. Don't go away. I can't do that. Not after calling him. He'll know something's wrong. And then he'll call the police, won't he? That's exactly what I warned you not to do, isn't it? My mother's sick. That's all that matters. All right. All right. Let him in. I'll put your mother in the living room. And I'll be behind the curtains. Keep that in mind. If you try any tricks, I'll kill her. I have your father's revolver, you know. I don't care what happens to me. I'll kill her first. All right. Go on. Let him in. I'll be ready for him. Hello, Emily. Hello, doctor. I'm so glad you've come. Where's our patient? In the living room. Well, let's look at her, shall we? Here she is, doctor. She isn't breathing loudly now. She was breathing so harshly when I left her. Well, let's just see. I stood against the wall while Ted bent over her. She was facing the curtains in the doorway. And behind those curtains, behind them... I scarcely breathed. Praying Ted wouldn't do anything to arouse suspicions. Praying against hope. And then... All right. You and the agent better give up. Oh, no, Ted. Don't you care! I warned her. Father! Easy, honey. Take it easy. You let him kill her. After I told you, you let him kill her. Honey, listen to me. It was the only thing I could do. It was you who killed her. You really did it. Emily, listen! Look at this bottle of sleeping tablets in her lap. Almost half empty, and she's cold. Cyanosis, blue, lips, and skin. She took an overdose of sleeping tablets. She was already dead, Emily. Already dead? You knew that when you told him to give up? Yes. I knew I couldn't leave you in the house with him. He'd have found out, and then he'd have fled up and killed you. I had to do it, honey. I had to provoke him into shooting a dead woman. To give me time to shoot him. I didn't know where he was, you see. Oh, Ted. He told us she'd ruined my life. He called her a parasite. You think she... I think so, honey. She did it so you might live. Roma wines have brought you a man in the house starring Joan Loring as Emily and Joseph Kearns as the man. In tonight's study in... Suspense! Before Miss Loring returns to the microphone, Ted Myers with a word for Roma wines, the sponsor of suspense. Warm weather and iced drinks just naturally go together. And as famed hostess Elsa Maxwell recently remarked, for a gay and colorful warm-weather drink, I recommend Roma wine and soda, a delightful frosty cold thirst quencher that's as delicious as it is refreshing. Yes, and Roma wine and soda made with distinguished Roma, California burgundy or sautern is quick and easy to make. Half-fill the tall glasses with good Roma burgundy or sautern, add ice cubes, sparkling water, and a bit of sugar. And for a decorative touch, garnish with cherries or fruit. And for a delightful aperitif, sip delicious Roma sweet vermouth, well-chilled. Zestful, full-flavored Roma vermouth is blended and developed with all the traditional winemaking skill of Roma wineries. Is made and bottled in the heart of California's famous vineyards, yet surprisingly low-priced. Try Roma vermouth soon, won't you? This is Joan Loring with a message from our government. America's war production program calls for the retention of millions of war workers in their jobs until the Pacific War is won. Stay on that war job until released. Keep buying more and more war bonds and hold on to them. Keep supporting all homefront activities and observing all wartime regulations, price controls rationing volunteer service, and salvage drives. Thank you. Next Thursday, you will hear Lloyd Nolan as star of... Suspense. Radio's outstanding theatre of thrills. Presented by Roma Wines, R-O-M-A. Made in California for enjoyment throughout the world. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.