Jealousy

Wait a minute. Have you heard the strange tales of the Whistler? The Whistler. I don't know what it is. It's a figure. I can't tell whether the man or a woman It comes through the door and walks without stretched arms toward my bed reaching for me Sunday night again CBS presents the Whistler. I

I, the Whistler, know many things, for I walk by night. I know many strange tales, many secrets hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak.

And so I tell you the weird tale of jealousy. At the edge of the cliff overlooking the seas, it's a grey stone mansion, weather beaten by the storms of several decades. Through this mansion Gilbert Durant brought his bride Lucia at his four years ago.

Gilbert and Lucia were quite happy until last year when Lucia's half-sister Beverly came to live with them. Gradually something began to happen. At first Lucia realized that Gilbert's ardour was beginning to cool. He became more absorbed in his writing.

Then she felt the cold, clamminess of the stone structure almost creep about her and clutch her. Fear grew in her mind. A fear that nearly took her breath. It is evening now, and Lucia, having excused herself at dinner, passes on her bed in a fretful sleep.

No, I hope I just opposed to shaking like a leaf. It's ended! The first time I've dreamed the same thing.

I've never heard you scream before. It always comes a little closer to me. Tonight, it almost reached me, it. What do you mean? I don't know what it is. It's a figure, a human figure.