Spectre of the Rose

In her sanctum mystery, brought to you by a brother's office and starring Ben Het. Ahhh! That's the problem, that's the problem. Good evening, friends. This is your host, inviting you in for the sweet email.

Come in, come in, want you? We're having a gala tour tonight, a grandson here, at the downtown Moxel Inn. And anybody who is any party will be there. Yes, it's formal, of course, but you don't have to wear evening clothes.

You can come in morning, but you come early. We're having a few people in the sky for us, and you mustn't miss the opening kick off. Heh heh heh heh heh heh. Tonight's inner thank-and-mystery, The Specter of the Rose, is an adaptation of Ben Heck's newest motion picture, which will have its Broadway premiere on August 31.

It was adopted by Robert Sloan, and is presented by the Emerson Drug Company of Baltimore, Maryland, whose registered pharmacists compound that speedy refreshing headache health in the familiar group bottle for more surfing. This is your host, ready with tonight's story.

It's all about a ballet dancers who made a woman's heart feel it. He kept the detective on his toes. Our guest tonight is only a student of the ballet. For the telling stories he has no master.

So here is the Spectre of the Rose and its author, St. Het. People like Andrew Stannings were born with one foot in heaven. For Grace, the charm, the effortless majesty of his movements were learned, perhaps, but never really studied.

To him the ballet was like food or sleep, a normal function of the body, an inseparable part of the soul. And when hands they danced in the theater, ushers watched, stage hands stood by in the wings and stairs.