Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

Which was the real Robin Marshall? The man she had loved for so long — the criminal her father had feared — or this man who looked at her ivith sorrow in his eyes? Only her heart could find the truth behind a strange masquerade from Dad, but Ralph stopped me. "Wait, Marion. There's something we have to tell you." The grim note in his voice startled me. Dad's newspaper slipped to the floor. They were both looking at me. "What's happened, you two?" I tried to smile. "You look like the end of the world." Dad said, "You've got to brace yourself for a shock, Marion." "Dad, I can take it. What's happened?" Ralph stood up, erect and stern. "Robin Marshall is back." "Robin!" I heard myself echo the name, but it was a moment before the realization struck home, before I felt myself grow dizzy. Robin alive! But — "He'll be here tonight," Ralph added slowly. I reached out to Dad, to steady myself. I could hear my heart pounding in my breast. Even then I knew something was wrong. There was something stilted arid unreal in the way they acted. Dad's long fingers running through his iron-gray hair. Ralph cold and unreachable. Yet with Ralph, perhaps, it was understandable. His parents and mine knew each other even before we were born. We grew up together and everybody — except me — expected that one day we would marry. Dad works for a real estate concern and Dad's influence helped Ralph obtain a position in the firm after he was graduated from college. I kept house for Dad after my mother died. Ralph was a frequent guest, and I went out with him often. But one day a man I'd never seen before came to see my father. He said his name was Robin Marshall. I hadn't ever known anyone like him before. He was — the word is free. He seemed on fire with ambition and the excitement of living. Always talking about how every july, 1942 man has a right to his own dreams, to take his own chances. Even in the way he dressed he was rakish and dashing. And his face was lean and his eyes the color of the sea. That was a wonderful time. I was with Robin almost every night, listening to him talk of becoming a great engineer, of how he would build great bridges across empty space. It was one of his engineering dreams that had brought him to Dad. The company for whom Dad worked owned some property in South America. If it could be developed — At first Dad turned him down. He and Ralph were bitterly opposed to Robin. They tried to tell me I shouldn't see him. I couldn't understand them, but I put it down to the fact that Ralph was jealous and Dad sided with him. Yet their reaction when I told them Robin and I were going to be married was strange. I'd rather expected a violent scene but it was just the opposite. Dad actually tried to seem pleased. Written in thrilling story form by Will Oursler, from the original radio drama by Roger Quale Denny, heard on Stars Over Hollywood, Saturday, 12:30 P.M..EWT, on CBS, sponsored by Dari-Rich "If you and Robin love each other," he told me, "that's all that matters." We made plans for the marriage. I knew that Robin needed a job, and Dad agreed to let him investigate the South American property, to see if it could be developed. Robin and I talked about the future and everything centered on the South American project. The day at the airport, he took me in his arms in front of all of them and kissed me and told me to think about him and he'd be back. Only he didn't come back. The morning came when Dad, his face white, told me they'd had word from the airlines. The plane had crashed. Some of the victims were missing, but Robin — they thought they had found his body. I was too hysterical to make sense. Dad flew down on the next plane to make the identification. I saw his face when he got back, and I knew it had been Robin. He told me they'd buried him there. I clung to a last hope, that Dad might have been mistaken. The identification, after such an accident, would be difficult, and a vibrant being like Robin — it wasn't possible he was dead. But Dad said there couldn't have been a mistake. They tried to help me forget. And Ralph for three years had been pleading with me to marry him. I was sorry he loved me, sorry because I couldn't return that love. Now I was trying to hide my own happiness. "I knew he was alive," I told them. "I always knew." Ralph closed his eyes. "He'll be here after dinner. Around seventhirty. Stopped in at the office today. He'll tell you — " "I'd better get dressed," I said, and tried to sound calm. I was a long time getting ready. The white dress' was the one, it had 15