Lovely Look

I'm the Whistler, and I know many things, before I walk by night. I know many strange tales, hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadow. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak.

Tonight, transcribed, is the Whistler Strange Story the Lovely Look. It began quietly. Matter of fact, Charles Belden would have found it difficult to trace it back to the exact moment when he began to feel as he did toward the girl.

Certainly it wasn't love at first sight. Somehow he could still tell himself that he was beyond that sort of thing. That is a respectable married man and the competent manager of the London importing firm, founded by his wife, Father.

He'd accomplished a certain reputation. But he did remember the first time they met. Some of the words they spoke, the way she looked at it. It was a Sunday morning, and out near the front gate the fog parted momentarily.

back like a soft gray curtain and there she was. She came walking up the road hesitated as you discovered one another silently and then hello I'm sorry but I've been walking forever it seems I wonder if you could direct me I'm trying to find the bells in residence. Well I'm Charles Bellon. Oh Mr. Bellon of course

you don't know me but I came in response to the ad regarding a housekeeper. Oh Or you didn't write Mrs. Vellum? Talk to her on the telephone? No. No, I thought it was best to meet her. Talk to her in person.

Uh, yes, yes. Well, along I believe she's back from her morning stroll. A daily ritual with her, you know. Um, oh here. I'll take you a suitcase. Oh, you're very kind, Mr. Garden. Not at all.