 Lux presents Hollywood. The Lux Radio Theatre brings you Ronald Coleman and Edna Best in A Tale of Two Cities. Ladies and gentlemen, your producer, Mr. Cecil B. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom. It was the age of foolishness. It was the spring of hope. It was the winter of despair. So Charles Dickens described the world as it was in the time of his story, A Tale of Two Cities. But for the Lux Radio Theatre, it certainly is the best of times when we can bring you this thrilling drama with a star like Ronald Coleman and with Edna Best as his leading lady. While Dickens was writing A Tale of Two Cities, he tells us he had a great desire to play the leading part himself. But if he could have known how Ronald Coleman would play it, I'm sure he'd gladly have given up his own ambition. You'll hear Ronnie tonight as Sydney Cotton with Edna Best as Lucy Manette in this roaring drama of adventure in the days of the French Revolution. A story of love and sacrifice marching to the rhythm of the reign of terror. A Tale of Two Cities is one of those rare stories that achieve immediate success and yet hold their popularity over the years. That's the true test of real value. And there's a very close parallel in a story not of two cities, but of six continents. The story of Lux Toiletsope. You know a famous critic once wrote of Dickens, that he had risen like a rocket and would come down like a stick. And the next time the two met, Dickens said, I will watch for that stick, sir. And when it comes down, I will break it across your back. But he never carried out his threat because the stick never came down. The rocket is still going up. And so is the popularity curve of Lux Toiletsope. It's been my experience that the public never lets real value down, whether that value is literary or Lux. Now we turn back the clock 150 years to A Tale of Two Cities as the curtain goes up on the first act, starring Ronald Coleman as Sydney Carton and Edna Best as Lucy Manette with Hallowell Hobbs as Mr. Larry and Dennis Green as Darny. Paris, 1793. The French Revolution is over. The cause is won. But the bloodshed has only started. The reign of terror sweeps through the land and all its fury. And each day, Madame Lagute is fed her share of human life. The dripping blade rises and falls, and the crowd counts in monotonous rhythm as each noble head rolls to the ground. The knife rises again and sweeps downward. 22 lives in a single day, and more to come and more and more until night falls draws a curtain on the scene. Behind the bleak walls of La Force Prison, the doomed of the following day await their fate. In a bare dungeon cell, a single lantern throws a ghostly glow on their faces. With a rattle of chains, the great iron door is thrown open. Everyone rise! Rise, aristocrats! In the name of the people of France, it is hereby declared by order of the tribunal that the 52 prisoners now interned in La Force Prison. Shall be put to death by the guillotine in the morning of February 2nd, 1793. Citizen jailer, which one of these is Charles Evremont? Evremont! Step forward! Evremont. Step forward. Charles Evremont, known as Charles Darnay, the tribunal has a special treat in store for you. In view of the excitement occasioned by your trial, it was felt that some small favor would be in order. We have decided therefore that you shall live long enough to witness the execution of your friends. Fifty-one heads will fall tomorrow. Yours will be the 52nd. Citizen Evremont. Yes? I didn't know you were here with us. It's so dark. I know. What is it you want, please? Oh, don't you know me? I'm Lisette, the seamstress. We were brought to La Force together. Oh, yes, of course. I... I forget for the moment of what you were accused. They accused me of plotting. But I'm innocent, I swear. How could I plot against the Republic? I'm nothing. I'm no one. Don't cry, child. It's too late for tears. I try to be brave, but soon the morning will come. It's growing light even now. You have an hour yet, perhaps more. Ask God for courage. Look, the sun is rising. I'm afraid and yet... I'm glad. At least we can see again. We can... What is it? You. You're not Evremont. You're not Charles Evremont. Quiet. I knew Charles Evremont. His eyes were blue. Yours are brown. His hair was light and yours... Who are you? Like you, I am nobody. But you are going to die for him. Why, Monsieur? I could never make you understand. But I could set you free. One word from me and... Please. Tell me about yourself. How can I? It would help so if you'd talked to me. Perhaps it would help you too, Monsieur. There's so much to tell. It all began long ago. When? 25 years ago, 1768. Have you ever been in England? No. Never. There's a long hill on the Dover Road that sweeps down to the sea. It's a pleasant road on a summer day with the sun shining. But the devil's own highway at night in the winter rain. On just that sort of night, in 1768, a coach topped the rise of the hill. The mail bound east for Dover. Get up! Get up! Top of the hill, Tom. And the rest in a moment. We'll be lucky if we make the boat for Calais this night. Shh. Listen. Hear that? What do you say? I say a horse at the canter coming up the hill afterwards. I say a horse at the gallop. Oh, there! Stand or I'll fire. Who are you? What do you want? Is that the Dover Mail? I want a passenger if it is. What passenger? Mr. Jarvis Laurie. Keep where you are. Is there a gentleman named Jarvis Laurie and the coach? I'm Laurie. Who wants me? It's me, Mr. Laurie, Jerry. Oh, I know this messenger, God. There's nothing wrong. I hope there ain't. Hello, you. Come on, on a foot pace. Well, Jerry, what is it? A dispatch, sir, sent after you from London. Be quick about reading it, sir. I don't like this. Oh, it's not very long, you see. Wait at Dover for Memorzel. Oh, very good, very good. Jerry? Yes, Mr. Laurie? Write back to London as fast as you can. Tell them my answer was, Recall to life. Recall to life. That was Mr. Laurie's business that night. To recall to life a man who had been buried alive for 18 years. A prisoner of the French nobility. But the man had escaped and was now hidden by friends in the village of Saint Antoine. To that village went Mr. Laurie. To the wine shop of a certain Madame Defarge. You are Madame Defarge? I am. You wish some wine, Monsieur? My name is Jarvis Laurie. I've just arrived from London. This young lady with me is Miss Lucy Manette. Good morning, Mancelle. Please tell us, is my father here? Is he safe? Your father? There is no one here, Mancelle. But Mr. Laurie was told that... One moment, my child. Madame Defarge, perhaps I should have presented my credential sooner. Recall to life. There is a man here. A man old beyond his years. A mender of shoes. Will you come this way? A husband and I have kept him locked in a room upstairs. Did you say locked? Yes. Of his own desire? Of his own necessity. He has lived too long alone. He would be afraid if his door was left unlatched. Oh, Mr. Laurie, I'm frightened. Hush, my dear. Father. Good day, Dr. Manette. You are hard at work, I see. Yes, I am working. You have a visitor, Dr. Manette. Show him the shoe you are working at. Now, tell him, Monsieur, the maker's name. Do you ask me for my name? Yes. 105 North Tower. That is all? 105 North Tower. You see, Monsieur, he remembers nothing. Dr. Manette, do you remember nothing of me? Look at me. Is there no old banker, no old business rising in your mind? Think of England. A man who was your friend. Jarvis Laurie. It's no use. This is what they have done to him. Lucy, come here, my child. Now speak, call him. Speak to him as you did long ago. Father. Who is this? Oh, Father. Do you remember, Dr. Manette? I remember a little girl. Long, golden hair, ages, ages ago. What was her name? Her name. She laid her head upon my shoulder when they came for me that night. Don't let them take you, Father. Trash, my child. My baby. My moose. They crossed the channel that night to a safe refuge in England. There, for five years, the good doctor rested until at last his memory returned and he was well again. But now, in the English courts, the trial was in progress. The trial of a certain Charles Dane was accused of plotting treason against his Majesty's government. Dr. Manette, called as a witness, sat with his daughter near the judge's bench. The court was hot, humid. Only one man seemed quite at ease, the assistant counsel for the prisoner. His court wig dipped in a slovenly fashion over one eye, his court gown was stained with wine. His name, if anyone was interested, was Sydney Carton. Carton, we must act quickly. As they have presented, Dane will hang by morning. Carton, do you hear me? I hear you, Mr. Stryver. Well, what shall I do? Why, will you? I'd sit down. Dane is my client. I'm trying to protect him. I pay you well for your assistance and I expect to have it. You'll have it, Stryver, when the time comes. I see you've already had your bottle today. Too, I believe. You're drunk. You're always drunk. Carton, listen to me. At the present time, I'm more interested in Dr. Manette. Dr. Manette to the stand. You are Dr. Manette? I am. Dr. Manette, the prisoner Charles Dane has been accused of carrying secret messages from Louis of France to spies here in England. Look upon the prisoner, Dr. Manette. Have you ever seen him before? I... I don't know. Really? Is it not true, Dr. Manette, that the prisoner was a fellow passenger with you five years ago on a boat from Calais to Dover? I cannot say. When I came from France that night, I had been newly released from a long imprisonment. I have little remembrance of the occasion. My... my... my mind was a blank for some time. I see. Your daughter made the trip with you, did she not? Yes. That'll be all. Are there any questions from the defence? Any questions, Carton? No questions. No questions, Your Worship. Miss Lucy Manette to the stand. Now, Miss Manette, look upon the prisoner, please. Have you ever seen him before? Yes. Where? On board the packet boat you mentioned. You spoke to him? You were friendly with him? Yes. Good. Now tell me, did he come aboard alone? No. When the gentleman came on board... Do you mean the prisoner? Yes. Then say the prisoner. When the prisoner came on board, there were two gentlemen with him. But these two did not make the crossing? No. Now tell me, did you see them give certain papers to the prisoner that night? No. You're sure of that? Well, I... I don't know. It was dark. Then they might have given him certain papers, is that right? Yes, but... That'll be all, Miss Manette. Oh, but please, I know he isn't guilty. That'll be all, please. Are there any questions from the defence? Well, Carton? No. Carton, you're mad. No questions. No questions, Your Worship. Your Worship, the prosecution would like to recall its chief witness. The prisoner's accuser, Mr. John Bosson. Now, as driver, we might have some questions. Mr. John Bosson? Right here, sir. Mr. Bosson, look upon the prisoner. Do you recognise him, Mr. Bosson? I do, sir. He's a spy against His Majesty's government. That's what he is. Repeat your reason for that statement. I will. I was on the mail packet that night myself. I saw the kind of papers that passed into his hands. They were lists of our troops. Thank you, Mr. Bosson. No more questions. The council for defence? Well, Carton, asking these questions I've written down. Mr. Bosson, how do you know the papers you saw were lists of British soldiers? I saw them. Oh, you saw them? Then you took them out of the pockets of the prisoner, Charles Darnay? Yes, sir. I know, sir. They fell out. They did. Oh, then you didn't take them. You're not a spy yourself. A man who makes his living by making accusations? That's a lie. A downright insinuating lie. Well, one moment. Well, Carton? Oh, Stryver, you've no imagination. Mr. Bossad, where do you get money to live on? My property. Oh, your property? Where is it? I don't exactly remember. Then perhaps you remember how you got that property. I inherited it. From whom? From relatives, distant relatives. How many times have you been in prison, Mr. Bossad? Six times, isn't it? What's that got to do with it? You ever been kicked for cheating a dice? Well, now I was... Mr. Bossad, you are positive it was the prisoner you saw that night with those lists? I am. It could not possibly have been someone else. No, it couldn't. Mr. Darnay, you please face this witness. Now, Mr. Bossad, look at Mr. Darnay. Look at him carefully. Well... And now, Mr. Bossad, look at me. Not me. The Assistant Counsel for the Defense. Do you notice a resemblance between us? Ah, very much alike, aren't we? Well, now that you mention it, you are. As a matter of fact, it could have been me who saw with those supposed lists that night. Couldn't it, Mr. Bossad? Well, now I... Couldn't it, Mr. Bossad? All right. Yes. So, thank you. Order, order! Are there any more questions? The jury will retire to consider its verdict. The jury agreed. We have, Your Worship. And how do you find the prisoner, Charles Darnay? We find the prisoner not guilty. Mr. Darnay, may we congratulate you, sir? Thank you, Doctor. I'm happy our testimony, did you know how? Yes, Lucy, I'm sure it did nothing but good. It was Mr. Carton who really won your case. Mr. Carton? Mr. Carton, sir? Did someone call me? May I thank you, sir, for saving my life? Oh, you're only a part of my business. Mr. Carton, this is Dr. Manette and Miss Lucy Manette. Mr. Carton? We thought you were splendid, Mr. Carton. Ah, it's nothing. It's just mere professional clap-trap. May I ask, sir, how did you happen to notice the resemblance between you and me? It was very simple. I looked at you and admired your bearing and your character, and you see, I have nothing but admiration for myself. Lucy, maybe we must go. Goodbye, Mr. Darnay. Will you call at our house soon? Thank you, Miss Lucy. And Mr. Carton? I... oh, thank you. Good day, then. Good day, gentlemen. Good day, Doctor. Mr. Carton, would you care to dine with me? You feel you must repay me? Oh, I could never repay you for my life, sir. Oh, don't be too certain. A bottle of wine or two, perhaps. My fees are very low. Another glass, Mr. Darnay. Thank you. I've had enough. Enough wine? Interesting condition. Well, Mr. Darnay, how does it feel to be alive again instead of hanging by your neck? Well, I'm a little confused regarding time and place, but it's good to feel at home in the world again. It must be an immense satisfaction. For me, the world has nothing to offer except wine like this. So you and I aren't much alike in that particular, are we? You speak very faintly, Mr. Darnay. I didn't speak at all, sir. Come, Mr. Darnay, why don't you call a health? Give us a toast. What toast, sir? Why, it's on the tip of your tongue, man. I swear it, sir. It's been there all evening, out with it. Very well, then. To Miss Lucy Manette. To Miss Manette, then. A fair young lady to hand into a coach in the dark, eh, Mr. Darnay? There's a fair young lady to be pitted by and wept for by. How does it feel, Mr. Darnay? Is it worth being tried for one's life to be the object of such sympathy and compassion? I don't take your meaning, sir. Mr. Darnay, let me ask you a question. Do you think I particularly like you? Well, you've acted as if you do, but I don't think you do. I don't think I do either. Nevertheless, I hope there's nothing in that dislike to prevent my calling for the reckoning and parting without ill blood. Oh, no, no, nothing at all. Do you call the whole reckoning? If I may, sir. In that case, innkeeper, more wine. Yes, sir. Good night, Mr. Darnay. One last word, Mr. Darnay. You think I'm drunk. I think you've been drinking, Mr. Darnay. You know I've been drinking. Well, since I must say so, I know it. You shall likewise know why. I care for no man on earth and no man cares for me. Much to be regretted. You might have used your talents better. Maybe so, Mr. Darnay. Maybe not. Good night, sir. Good night. And don't let your sober face elate you. For you never know what it may come to. Then, keeper, wine. Coming, sir. Well, Carton, has Mr. Darnay shown you what you've fallen away from, what you might have been? Change places with him. And would you have been looked at by those blue eyes as he was? Come on, have it out in plain words. You hate the fellow. Sidney Carton knew it was too late to change his way of life, but he took to brushing his coat and combing his hair. And there were times even when he remembered that a gentleman does not drink himself nightly into a stupor. On Sunday afternoons, he would appear in Miss Manette's garden, sitting quietly, speaking but seldom, for Charles Darnay was there too. One evening, just a dusk, an approaching storm sent them indoors. Listen, it's coming soon, Mr. Darnay. It comes slowly but surely. Isn't it impressive? Sometimes when I've sat here of an evening like this, listening to the thunder in the distance, I've had such a strange fancy. I've imagined that the thunder claps were echoes. The echoes of footsteps that will one day enter our lives. If that is so, there's a great crowd coming into our lives. I take them into mine gladly. It was my foolish fancy, Mr. Carton. There's a great crowd bearing down upon us now. Thousands upon thousands. Here they come. Fast, fierce and furious. Oh, you make my fancy seem too real, Mr. Carton. There was a great crowd coming into their lives. A numberless, overpowering crowd which one day would decide the fate of these three. At first it was but a whisper in the city of Paris. A whisper that was to grow over the years into a crashing roar of hatred. Slowly but surely, as this storm came, the crowd was coming too. Up from the cellars of Paris, up from the bare fields of a starving peasantry, the crowd was coming, chanting its hate, screaming for blood, the people of France and all their might rising in revolution. Mr. DeMille and our stars, Ronald Coleman and Edna Best, have been in act two of A Tale of Two Cities. And now while we're waiting... Oh, Mr. Ruick, may I tell you about... About what, Sally? Not what, but who? Whom, Sally? Whom? Oh, yes. Oh, but anyway, I want to tell you about Marlena Dietrich. You mean you saw her at Cirrus the other night? Oh, were you there too? I'd never seen her in person before. Isn't she simply beautiful, Mr. Ruick? And that gorgeous evening gown she was wearing. Trust you to notice that. Naturally. And her complexion, Mr. Ruick. No one could help noticing that. It's lovely. You're right, Sally. It's a lovely luxe complexion. Oh, so you know that too. Well, oh, but did you know that Marlena Dietrich says she always takes an active lather facial every night? Yes, Sally, I do know that. But here's a chance for you. Maybe all the ladies in our audience don't know just how Marlena Dietrich and other famous Hollywood stars use their daily active lather facials. Well, I was coming to that, Mr. Ruick. These active lather facials that Hollywood stars use are so easy and so quick. You just pat luxe soap's creamy lather lightly into your skin, rinse with warm water, and then with cool. With a towel, you pat your face gently to dry. Then just touch your skin. See if you don't agree with Marlena Dietrich. Here's what she says. Skin feels smoother after an active lather facial and softer. Thank you, Sally. Now, all you ladies listening in, you who want the charm of a lovely complexion, won't you take a tip from Hollywood's famous stars? Just try active lather facials regularly for 30 days. Get three cakes of luxe toilet soap tomorrow and begin giving your own priceless complexion this care that screen stars depend on. You too will find these beauty facials with gentle luxe toilet soap, gentle aid in keeping skin exquisitely smooth and soft. Appealing. We pause now for station identification. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. Two of a tale of two cities, starring Ronald Coleman as Sydney Carton and Edna Best as Lucy Manette. In La Force Prison, awaiting death by the guillotine, the man called Donny continues his story. The little seamstress condemned to die with him within the hour, listens quietly, her eyes fixed on his face. As time went on, Sydney Carton appeared less and less frequently in the Manette home, for he knew that Lucy loved Charles Donny. It was in an evening in April, almost 10 years ago, that Charles Donny spoke to Lucy's father. I've only hinted at marriage to Lucy, sir. I didn't want to speak until, well, there are certain things about myself that I feel that you have a right to know. Yes. Dr. Manette, my name is not Donny. I chose that name when I first left France and my heritage. Heritage. I'm of noble birth, sir, but I don't boast of it. Through generations, my family gained its wealth and its glory at the expense of the poor. When my uncle died, I was the sole remaining heir. I returned to France to sign away my title to the estate. Why do you tell me this? Because, sir, I know what you have suffered at the hands of the French aristocracy. Your uncle's name and yours, what was it? Saint Evrimond, the Marquis Saint Evrimond. He was... Doctor, you're ill, sir. No. That is all you have to say. That is all, sir. And Charles, Lucy is not to know what you had just told me. Not now, do you mean? Not now or ever. She is not to know your word. Very well, doctor. You have my word. Now go, please. Go. Send Evrimond. Oh, Sidney. I got your message. Is there anything wrong? It's Father. He's been locked in his room all day. Oh, I'm so afraid. Doctor Manette, open the door, Doctor Manette. Miss Lucy, I found a key in the storeroom. Oh, give it to me. Would you? And take Miss Lucy downstairs. Yes, sir. Come, my dear. Come. Doctor Manette. Doctor Manette, do you hear me, doctor? What work is this you're doing? Walking shoe. It should be finished. Let me... Is he all right? Yes, he's all right. Doctor Jemison is with him. Oh, you've been very kind to stay so long. I tried to reach Charles, but he wasn't at home. I was so worried. Oh, there's nothing to worry about now. He needs rest. A few days and he'll be well again. What could have caused it after all these years to go back to that? What happened to him? How can we know? He's got, perhaps, some sudden jolt of memory. A man's mind can play queer tricks. Yes, Lucy. I brought you a cup of chocolate. Thank you, Miss Cross. And the doctor says everything will be all right. You're not to worry. Oh, thank you. Well... Oh, Sidney, you're not leaving. It's growing late. Not for me, of course, but... Well, I doubt if you see the dawn very often. I don't. But I can welcome it today. A few hours ago everything was so black and fearsome, and now all my troubles are past. All my hopes reborn. It's always that way, isn't it? There are some hopes a man may have, which remain in the shadows forever. Do... Do you have such hopes, Sidney? No, I am like one who... who died young. Sidney, you've come often to the house in the past few months, and yet we know very little about you, except that you are our friend. Is there nothing that I can do to help, Sidney? Oh, I could never hope to repay what you've already done. May I... May I tell you something? Will you hear me without shrinking from me? What is it? You have been the last dream of my soul. Seeing you here in your home has stirred old shadows that I thought had died out of me. I've heard whispers from old voices impelling me upward that I thought was silent forever. I've had unformed ideas of striving afresh, fighting out the abandoned fights. The dream. All a dream. But I wish you to know that you inspired it. No, Sidney. Well, nothing of it remain. Oh, perhaps as a dream might linger on after the dreamer awakes. But try to hold me in your mind as sincere in this one thing. I would embrace any sacrifice for you or for those dear to you. Think now and then that there is a man who would give his life to keep a life you love beside you. The poor fool, carton, drunk. This time with self-pity. From that day on, he was seen rarely in the manette home. He was there when Lucy and Donnie were married and again some years later when their child was born. A girl. But his visits were short and he would slip away at the first opportunity. In France, during these years, the echoing footsteps of the crowd had been growing louder. Grim patriots who were to bathe the soil of France in the blood of the hated nobility. And then the storm broke in all its fury. In July 1789, they swarmed from the rat holes of Paris to cover the country with a blanket of red. The avengers bent upon destruction and death. Farge, how can you sit in it so calmly on this day? Our day of victory. Our day of victory will come when every noble head has rolled from every noble shoulder. And in this knitting, I have inscribed their names. The names of those who have starved us, beaten us, killed us. And for every stitch, another head shall roll. For every stitch, we shall be avenged. I'm looking for Mr. Sydney Carton. He is not open. There's no inn in London open at this time of night. I want to see Mr. Sydney Carton. Let me in. Now, where is he? He's in there. Carton, wake up! Wake up! Who is it? Donnie. Oh, Mr. Donnie. Welcome, Mr. Donnie. You will have some wine? I have no time for that. Listen to me. I'm leaving for Paris within the hour. Paris? Yes, there's some business there that I must attend to at once. Paris? It's very warm this time of the year. If I were your lawyer, I should advise against the journey. How much do you know of me? This is excellent wine, Mr. Donnie. French wine. From the cellars of the aristocrats who fled the country. There will be fewer of these bottles left now. It is being poured into the streets of Paris. Along with the blood of the nobles who once drank it. Must you go to Paris, Mr. Donnie? I see there's little I have to explain to you. But I received a letter this morning from a man who was once my servant. They have threatened to send him to the guillotine unless he can explain why he's in possession of certain property. That's why I must go to save his life. And what of your own life? I'll be in no danger. I've renounced my inheritance. It's easily proved. Why do you come to me? There's no one else I can turn to. I don't know how long I shall be gone. My family shall be alone. In my absence, I should like to feel that there's someone here in London who's watching over them. You would trust me to watch over your child, your wife? Yes. I know that you love her. When did you say you must leave? Tonight, now. Have no fear about your family. They will be safe. Thank you, Carton. Good night. Good night. Godspeed. Mr. Carton, more wine, sir? Oh, take it away. Where are you going, citizen? I'm going to Paris. Let me see your papers. Well, if you'll hurry, please, citizen. I must be in Paris within the hour. What is your name, citizen? Charles Darnay. Darnay, also known as Evremonde. Why, yes, but I... You are consigned, Evremonde, to the prison of La Force. After a brief intermission, Mr. DeMille and our stars, Ronald Coleman and Edna Best, will be turned for Act III of A Tale of Two Cities. And now, here's a pretty young lady in a most unusual state of mind. Phew, what a day. Am I tired? Lucky I haven't got a date tonight. I'm simply not going to stir out of this door tonight for anyone. Hello? Yes? Why, Dick, it's you. You're on leave? Dancing? I'd love to. Half an hour. Of course I'll be ready. Oh, my, Dick, home from camp. I've just got to look my best. Let's see, get out my new shoes. Blue dress, little hat with veil. Now, quick like a flash, fill up the tub. Unwrap a cake of luck soap. Thank goodness for my beauty bath. I'll feel like new in ten minutes. Now, there's a clever girl. Jean depends on her luck soap bath for a real beauty pickup. She'll relax a few minutes in the warm water, and she'll smooth on the rich luck soap lather. Lathers are creamy and caressing, that it seems to soothe away the day's tiredness. When she steps out of her luck soap bath, she'll be refreshed. And most important of all, she'll be sure of dangerous, too. You see, luck soap has active lather that carries away perspiration in every trace of dust and dirt. It leaves skin sweet, well, exquisitely fresh. Did you know that famous green stars use this fine complexion soap as their daily bath soap, too? Yes, lovely ladies everywhere. Protect daintiness, the easy luck soap way. You will enjoy the luxury of this beauty bath. You'll be delighted, too, with the delicate, flower-like fragrance that luck leaves on your skin. By this fragrant white soap, the economical three cakes at a time way. Get some luck's toilet soap tomorrow. Now, our producer, Mr. DeMille. It's curtain time for the third act of a tale of two cities. The sun rises slowly over the roofs of Paris, and the long shadow of the guillotine falls against the walls of La Force prison. In the cell of the condemned, the man speaks in a hushed voice. His story meant only for the ears of the little seamstress. They brought Charles Darnay here to La Force prison to be held in secret. In secret? But somehow the news filtered back to England, and soon his wife and child were in Paris with Dr. Manette and Mr. Larray. Mr. Larray? Their old friend. For months they waited for some word from Darnay in his cell, but no word came, and every day through the streets they passed, filled with condemned, on their last journey to the guillotine. Father, did you see him? Did you see Charles? No. They would not take me to his cell, but I have news. Yes? Charles is summoned tomorrow for trial. Tomorrow? Oh, Father. I think it will go well, my child. They are going to allow me to testify for... You? But they'll brand you a traitor. They'll kill you, Father. No, my child. I bear a charmed life in this city. I have been a prisoner in the Bastille. Is this tribunal to understand that you endorse the accused, the prisoner Charles Evremond? That is so. But he is of noble blood. He is a traitor. He is no traitor. I will swear to it. Dr. Manette, we know your life, the cause you fought for. You are one of us. Yes, and as one of you I speak. The accused Charles Evremond was my first friend when I was released from the Bastille. The accused Charles Evremond was my daughter's husband. In all these years, he has had no part in the tyranny against which we fought. He has renounced his share of the estate and returned it to the people. Charles Evremond is no enemy of the revolution. I give you my word, he is innocent. Free the prisoner, yes? Fair itself? We are. I'll say you then. Let the prisoner be freed. What does this mean? I say the prisoner cannot be freed. He stills... Boom, citizeness. By three voices. By my husband Ernest et al. By myself. And the third? By the doctor of Beauvais. Dr. Alexander Manette. I protest. I protest. Continue. You have said Charles Evremond was your first friend. I was your first friend. It was to my wine shop you have brought where you made shoes under my care. You knew yourself then only as a number. 105 North Tower. The cell in which you have been confined. Is that not true? If you say it is, I must believe it. I can't remember. But I remembered. And I resolved one day to examine that cell. And on the day the Bastille fell, I went to 105 North Tower. Hear me, citizens. In that cell hidden to the stonework of the wall, I found a paper. A paper written by Dr. Alexander Manette in the year 1767. Before the dark and lonely Nostrovy Mad. It is that paper I hold in my hand now. Shall I tell you, scribes? In the doctor's words, how he was called one night to attend the peasant family. A miserable bed of rags. A girl and her unborn child. In the stable her brother with a sword wound in his chest was to breathe his last before the morning. And why? Two unfortunate creatures had protested against the noble family who held them in bondage. Married the girl and her brother the following day. But they had seen too much. Had heard too much from the lips of that dying girl. That night the doctor was taken to the Bastille with all her trust. Silenced him forever. And the name of that family. The name of those murderers. Bastille having got a bond in his descendants against the time when these crimes announced them to heaven and to me. They have long had the crimes of the Evremont family nicked in my register. Asked my husband, is that so? Finish off! I brought this paper home and we read it together, my husband and I. Then when we had finished I told him that I had a secret to communicate with him. I told him what it was. I struck this bosom of these two hands as I strike it now. A fishman and a seashore. And that peasant family so injured by the Evremonts is my family. That sister of the mortally wounded boy upon the ground was my sister. Summons to answer for those things this sentence to me. Prison of La Force to await death by the guillotine. That was the sentence passed by the tribunal. That same night a coach left Calais for Paris. Carrying but one passenger. Slouched low in the seat. His shabby great coat pulled high about his neck. Reaching Paris he haunted the inns and taverns. Wandered like a lonely ghost through the city. And at last made his way to the lodging house where Lucy waited news from La Force. Oh, Sydney. Sydney Cotton. You must forgive my coming of this hour. I didn't wish to be seen. I knew you'd come. I've been waiting. Sydney, they're going to take Charles. They're going to kill him. How long has he... Until the morning. And they won't let me see him. I can't be near him in these last hours. Lucy. Remember what you said long ago. The dark hours before the dawn. There will be no dawn tomorrow. It will be dark now. Always. Lucy. If only there was some way I could comfort you. You must hope... I hope is there what comfort. My husband is going to die. Lucy. Oh, Sydney, forgive me. You were right. I have no strength to offer you. You came to us tonight. I shall never forget that. It is useless to speak to Dr. Manette. He's in no condition to see you now. Mr. Lorry, if you will forgive me. There is nothing you can do here, Mr. Cotton. Nothing. Mr. Lorry, you are a man of business. Are you not? I am. Oh, really, sir? Oh, I know your opinion of me, Mr. Lorry. But a drinking man may learn things around the town if he can listen at the same time. I have learned that Dr. Manette is in great danger. He and Lucy must leave Paris tonight. Leave Paris? And they must take the child with them. But why? The revenge of Madame Defage does not stop with Charles. The accusation is against the Marquis Saint-Evremond and all his race. Lucy. Her child. Ah. Now, may I see Dr. Manette? He would do no good, sir. He's gone back to his work. His work? He wouldn't even know what you were saying, Mr. Cotton. Mr. Lorry, you have a pass that will let you through to Calais. Will it serve for Dr. Manette and Lucy? Yes, for as many as are with me. Then you will use it tonight. You will arrange for a coach to meet you all here at midnight. The coach will take you to the side gate of La Force prison. Do you understand? The prison. There you will be joined by another person who will make the trip with you to England. Don't stop to ask questions. Proceed at once to the gates of Paris and on to Calais as fast as the coach can take you. But this, this other person, who will it be? Who? Mr. Sidney Cotton. I don't understand. Oh, I may be in poor condition for travel. I usually am at that hour. But as soon as I'm in the coach, drive on. But you, at the gate of La Force, will you be within the prison tonight? Yes. Yes, I'm going to see Charles. A certain Mr. Basad, English spy, is a tenkey in the prison. He will open the doors for me. I don't understand all this. But you give me hope. And you will save them all, Mr. Lorry. Not only I, sir. I shall have a young and ardent man at my side. Yes, with the help of heaven you shall. Tell me, Mr. Lorry, yours is a long life to look back on. I'm in my 78th year, sir. You've been useful all your life. Trusted, respected. There are many in this world who would miss you. Oh, a solitary old bachelor. No, there is nobody to weep for me. Wouldn't she weep for you? Lucy, yes, thank God. I didn't quite mean what I said. It is a thing to thank God for, isn't it? Surely, surely. If you had to say with truth tonight, I have gained the love of no human creature. I have done nothing good or visible to be remembered by. Your 78 years would be 78 heavy curses, would they not? I think they would. But you are young, Garten. Yes, I'm not old. But the road I took was never the way to age. Good night, Mr. Lorry. How long before Danny is taken from his cell and put with the others? I can't tell that. Perhaps only an hour now. All right. Leave us alone, Basshead. But stay within call. You'll keep your promise. I told you that I could get you in and out again. But for you both to try to leave... I know, I know. Open the door. Open the door. Who's there? Have you come for... Garten, you? Of all the people on earth, I'm the least expected, is that it? Why are you here? I came to see. Oh, you shouldn't have taken the risk. It can serve no purpose. It can serve one. I bring you a message from Lucy. A message? A request, rather, that you do exactly as I say and ask no questions. Now, take off your coat. Take off my... Yes, take it off and change it for mine. Quickly. Are you mad? Ah, do as I say. It's her wish. Very well. Now, put on my coat. And your hair, rumble it. So, as mine is... Garten, there's no escaping from this place. You'll only die with me. It's madness. Have I mentioned escape? Ah, do as I say. Now, take my crevette. Here. Give me yours. Garten, I warn you, you can't... No, be quiet. Look, there are pen and ink on that table. Is your hand steady enough to write? It was when you came in. Well, steady it then and write what I dictate. Quickly. To whom do I address it? Ah, to no one. Right. If you remember the words that pass between us long ago, you will understand when you see this. Have you written that? I don't... What vapor is that? Vapor? A strange odor, something that crossed me. I'm not conscious of it. Take up the pen and finish it. I told you once. There was nothing I would not do. Nothing that I... I would not... What is it? There is something, that odor. You mean this on my handkerchief? Yes, yes, it's so... Breathe deeply. No, no, no. Yes, breathe. Breathe. I can't... Breathe. You, down there. Are you finished? Are you ready to... What's this? What's the matter with him? There's nothing. He's unconscious. Carry him out to the gate. But you... You've changed clothes with him. Listen to me. Sydney Carton fainted from the shock of parting with an old friend. You'll find a coach at the side gate. Put him into it. Tell them to drive as fast as they can to Calais. Now, wait. Wait. I'll finish this note. If you remember the words that passed between us, you will understand. I told you once, there was nothing I would not. To keep a life you love beside you, God bless you. Take this note and hurry. Travis Lorry from Telsen's bank. Fast. Dr. Minnet. Fast. His daughter. Fast. His grandchild. Who's that on the floor? He... He's Mr. Sydney Carton. Let me see him. Coach goes through. Perhaps by this time they've reached Calais. They're bound for England and home. Then you... you are Sydney Carton. Yes. And you're dying for him. For Charles Downey. And for someone else. Aristocrats, your carriages are waiting. Six Tumbrils will carry the day's wine to la madame la guillotine. God, take them out. You, every moan, it will be as I promised for you. You shall wait for the last tumbril. Your head shall be the 52nd today. I am ready. May I... May I go with you? Keep your eyes on me, child. Mind nothing else. I mind nothing while I hold your hand. Than I have ever done. It's a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known. That is destiny, and the roar of the crowd fades into the silence of 150 years ago. We saw it all through the magic of some fine acting and the stars responsible for that return to the stage now. Ronald Coleman and Edna Best. Thank you, CB. And on behalf of Edna and myself, I'd like to thank the other members of the cast tonight for their excellent work. Isn't this one of the largest casts you've ever had, Mr. DeMille? You've been one of the best, Edna. We've been planning this production for several years. It must have been that long ago we first talked about it, wasn't it, Ronnie? I believe it was, CB. I know I've been looking forward to it for a long time. It's always been my favourite among your pictures, Ronnie. Quote any line from the Dickens novel, Edna, and Ronnie can give you chapter and verse. I should say so, and I hope soon to be on with the quiz, kids. Well, here's one quiz anyone can pass, Mr. DeMille. At least anyone who knows about luck's soap. The question of the right complexion care. For me, it's been luck's soap for years now, and I find it's a grand help in keeping skin soft and smooth. Go to the head of the class, Edna. Luck's soap is always the right answer. Who's going to be here next week, Mr. DeMille? First, let me tell you the play. It's CB. Good night. Good night. Good night. Our sponsor, the makers of luck's toilet soap, joined me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night. When the Luck's Radio Theatre presents Lana Turner and Lionel Barrymore in The Devil and Miss Jones. This is Cecil B. DeMille saying good night to you from Hollywood. Herding's night's play were Verna Colton as Madame Defarge, Gryff Barnett as Dr. Manette, and Kathleen Fitz, Alex Harford, Victor Rodman, Edwin Maxx, Boyd Davis, Jeff Corey, Thomas Mills, Ferdinand Munier, Arthur Q. Bryan, Don Thompson, Jane Morgan, Charles Seal, Eric Snowden, and Tori Carlton. Tune in next Monday night to hear Lionel Barrymore and Lana Turner in The Devil and Miss Jones. Our music was directed by Louis Silvers, and your announcer has been Melville Ruick. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.