The Letter

The Letter

The Letter is a 1940 film noir about a woman who murders her lover, and then must face his widow and her husband.

Year:
1940
492 Views
I wish I could say I was sorry.
Fascinating Tantalizing and DANGEROUS!

Howard:
Tell us exactly what happened.

Withers:
Take your time, Mrs. Crosbie, remember, we're all friends here.

Leslie:
I ate dinner rather late and started working on my lace. I don't know how long I'd been working when suddenly I heard a footstep outside. Someone came up on the veranda and said: 'Good evening, can I come in?' I was startled because I hadn't heard a car drive up.

Withers:
Hammond left his car about a quarter mile down the road. Your houseboy noticed it as we were driving here.

Robert:
Well, he probably didn't want anyone to hear him drive up.

Leslie:
Well, at first, I couldn't tell who it was. 'Who is it?' I asked. 'Jeff Hammond.' 'Oh, of course,' I said, 'Come in and have a drink.'

Howard:
Were you surprised to see him?

Leslie:
Well I was rather. We hadn't seen him for ages, had we, Robert?

Robert:
Three months, at least.

Leslie:
I told him Robert was out at our No. 4 Plantation getting out a shipment or something. Was that it?...Well he said, 'Oh, I'm so sorry, but I was feeling rather lonely so I thought I'd come over and see how you were getting on.' I asked him how he'd come, as I hadn't heard a car. He said he'd left it on the road because he thought we might be in bed and didn't want to wake us up. Well, I put on my spectacles again and went on with my work. Well, we went on chatting and then real suddenly, he said something rather silly...It's hardly worth repeating. He paid me a little compliment.

Howard:
I think perhaps you'd better tell us exactly what he said.

Leslie:
He said, 'You have very pretty eyes. It's a shame to hide them under those ugly spectacles.'

Howard:
Has he ever said anything of the sort to you before?

Leslie:
Oh no, never, and I thought it impertinent. He tried to take one of my hands. 'Don't be an idiot,' I said. 'Sit back where you were and talk sensibly or I shall have to send you home.'

Withers:
But Mrs. Crosbie, I wonder you didn't throw him out there and then.

Leslie:
Well, I didn't want to make a fuss. You know, there are men who think it's their duty to flirt with women whenever they have the chance. I believe they think women expect it of them.

Howard:
When did you first suspect that Hammond was serious?

Leslie:
The next thing he said to me. He looked at me straight in the face and said, 'Don't you know I'm awfully in love with you?'

Robert:
Swine!

Howard:
Were you surprised?

Leslie:
Of course I was surprised. We've known him seven years, Robert. He's never paid me the smallest attention. Didn't suppose he even knew what color my eyes were.

Robert:
We haven't seen very much of him for the last few years.

Howard:
Go on, Leslie.

Leslie:
Well, he helped himself to another whiskey and soda. Began to wonder if he'd been drinking before. 'I wouldn't have another one if I were you,' I said. I was quite friendly, not the least bit frightened. It never occurred to me I couldn't manage him. He emptied his glass and said to me in a funny, abrupt way: 'Do you think I'm saying all this to you because I'm drunk?' I said, 'That's the most obvious explanation, isn't it?' Oh, it's too awful having to tell you all this. I'm so ashamed.

Withers:
I wish there was some way we could spare you, Mrs. Crosbie.

Howard:
Leslie, it's for your own good that we know the facts while you remember them.

Leslie:
Very well, I'll tell you the rest. I got up from that chair there and I stood in front of the table here. He rose and came around the table and stood in front of me. I held out my hand. 'Good night,' I said. But he didn't move. He just stood there looking at me. His eyes were all funny. 'I'm not going,' he said. Then I began to lose my temper. 'You poor fool, don't you know I've never loved anyone but Robert? And even if I didn't love him, you'd be the last man in the world I should care for.' 'Robert's away,' he said. Well, that was the last straw. I wasn't in the least bit frightened, just angry. 'If you don't leave immediately,' I said, 'I shall call the boys and have you thrown out.' When I walked past him toward the veranda to call the boys, well, he took hold of my arm and swung me back. But I tried to scream and he flung his arms about me and began to kiss me. I struggled to tear myself away from him. He seemed like a madman. He kept talking and talking and saying he loved me. Oh, it's horrible, I can't go on...He lifted me in his arms and started carrying me. Somehow, he stumbled on those steps. We fell and I got away from him. Suddenly, I remembered Robert's revolver in the drawer of that chest. He got up and ran after me but I reached it before he could catch me. I seized the gun as he came toward me. I heard a report and saw him lurch toward the door. Oh, it was all instinctive. I didn't even know I'd fired. Then I followed him out to the veranda. He staggered across the porch, grabbed the railing, but it slipped through his hand and he fell down the steps. I don't remember anything more, just the reports one after another till there was a funny little click and the revolver was empty. It was only then I knew what I'd done.

Withers:
May I say that I think you behaved magnificently. I'm terribly sorry that we had to put you through the ordeal of telling us all this...It's quite obvious the man only got what he deserved.

Robert:
My poor child...You did what every woman would have done in your place, only nine-tenths of them wouldn't have had the courage.

Robert:
[after reading the letter] What does it mean?...What does it mean?

Leslie:
It means that I was in love with Geoff Hammond.

Robert:
No!

Leslie:
Been in love for years.

Robert:
I don't believe it.

Leslie:
We used to meet each other constantly once or twice a week. Not a soul had the smallest suspicion. Every time I met him, I hated myself. Yet I'd live for the moment that I'd see him again. It was horrible. There was never an hour when I was at peace and I wasn't reproaching myself. I was like a person who was sick with some loathsome disease and doesn't want to get well. Even my agony was a kind of joy. Then there came a time about a year ago. He began to change toward me. I didn't know what was the matter. I was frantic. I made scenes. I threw myself at his feet...Then I heard about that - that native woman. Oh, I couldn't believe it, I wouldn't believe it. The last I saw her, I saw her walking in the village with those hideous bangles, that chalky painted face, those eyes like a cobra's eyes. But I couldn't give him up. I sent for him. You read the letter. Oh, we'd always been so careful about writing before. This time, I didn't care. I hadn't seen him for ten days. He came to see me. I told him I'd heard about his marriage. At first he denied it. Oh, I was so frantic. I don't know it, I said to him. I hated him because he made me despise myself. I insulted him, I cursed him. I was beside myself. At last, he turned on me. He told me he was sick and tired of me, that it was true about that other woman, that she was the only one that had ever meant anything to him. And that he was glad that I knew, because now I'd leave him alone. When he got up to go, I knew if he left I'd never see him again, so I seized the revolver and fired. I heard a cry...he staggered toward the veranda, and I ran after him and fired and fired and fired. There's no excuse for me. I don't deserve to live.

[Robert rushes out]

Howard:
He's going to forgive you.

Leslie:
Yes. He's going to forgive me.


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