Puritan Morality and Violent Death Albert I Prince

A big story. It wasn't any different from usual. He came home late. Your husband? And he knew it was going to be one of his insomnia at night. He said, I will sleep. So he took his handkerchief and he poured some chloroform on it.

A chloroform? He called it the scent of the gods. He took a little and put it on his handkerchief, put the handkerchief over his face and went to sleep. He had done it many times before.

You to take chloroform to go to sleep? About five, I thought I heard a noise downstairs. I said, Harold, please see what it is. And I reached over and touched him, and he was cold.

Harold was dead. Hartford, Connecticut. From the pages of the Hartford Times, comes the story of Puritan morality and violent death. Hartford, Connecticut. The story is it actually happened.

Albert Prince's story as he lived it. It was a scoop, a clean scoop, and you had been scooped. There it was in black and white on the front pages of the opposition paper. Wife find husband dead, he's dead.

Harold Duran, prominent meteorologist and weather expert. Dead of chloroform poisoning. But the scoop didn't bother you much, Albert Prince, reporter of the Hot for Times. Not really. Sure, it hurts to be scooped. But what really bothered you was that you knew Harold Duran.

Know him for a quiet, good-looking, middle-aged scientist, a member of the Hot for the Bureau, accurate, conservative, easy with reporters. The man almost everybody turned to first in the paper to see what today's weather was going to be like.

But tomorrow's. What hit you, disturbed you, made you restless, was that there was something weird about it. That was the only word that accurately described it. Weird. Harold Duran, the chlorophorn. So to clear up the weirdness of it, you sat now on the porch of a nice house in East Hartford, Where the widow Duran speaks to you in her small, controlled voice.