She-wolf Of London Page #3

Synopsis: Several murders have been committed in a London park and the victims have been savagely clawed about the throat. The police believe that a woman is a killer, and perhaps she is a (she) werewolf. Heiress Phyllis Allenby, fears she is the criminal, based on the family legend of the "Allenby Curse" which was the belief that members of the family at times assumed the form of a wolf. Her aunt's constant reminders to her of the "Allenby Curse" only serves to keep her niece's fears alive.
Genre: Crime, Horror, Mystery
Director(s): Jean Yarbrough
Production: Universal Studios
  1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
5.3
Rotten Tomatoes:
17%
PASSED
Year:
1946
61 min
72 Views


I'll lock him in the garden.

I'm sorry I'm such

a coward, Barry.

I don't blame you for being

afraid, the way he was carrying on.

[Barking Continues]

[Dogs Barking]

[Dog Howling]

[Door Opening]

Oh! Oh, Aunt Martha!

You startled me.

I'm sorry, Phyllis.

I heard you

stirring about.

I thought I'd just look in

and say good night.

What in the world is

that? It's a lantern.

But why did you

hang it out there?

I thought it might keep the

dogs from making such a racket.

They've been

at it all evening.

Come now, my dear. You can tell

me the truth. What do you mean?

I'm familiar with that

old Scottish superstition...

of hanging out a lighted lantern when

dogs howl, to drive away the evil spirits.

But you're far too intelligent

to believe in anything so silly.

Am I? I wonder.

Certainly you are.

Oh, leave it there!

But why? Why, because I want it there.

Isn't that reason enough?

Just as you say, dear.

Wait! Aunt Martha,

I'm sorry.

It's just that

I'm all on edge.

Those dogs and their constant

howling are driving me frantic.

And things that have been

happening in the park...

You poor child. You really

are upset, aren't you?

You mustn't let yourself

go to pieces like this.

Now, get into bed.

I'll fetch you some warm

milk from downstairs.

You'll sleep so soundly

you won't even hear the dogs.

Into bed with you.

I'll only be a minute.

[Martha]

Carol.!

Where are you going?

Answer my question.

I was going out for a breath of

air. It was stuffy in my room.

Why do you lie to me? You were

stealing out of the house...

to meet Dwight Severn.

Go to your room.

At once.

Here you are, darling.

Drink it.

And let's forget all about

your nerves being on edge.

Oh, thank you, Aunt Martha.

That's very sweet of you.

[Dogs Barking,

Howling]

Dismal sound,

ain't it, 'Erbert?

Like lost souls looking

for a place to rest.

Nothing quite as fancy,

Alfred, if you ask me.

More like lost wolves looking

for someone to tear to pieces.

Yes, 'orrible,

ain't it?

They do say the 'owling

of a dog means death.

In that case, half of London must

be at death's door at this minute.

[Screaming]

That's no dog.

Sounds like a child.

Here, come on!

[Exhales]

Blood.

[Sighs]

Good morning.

Why, Phyllis, what's the

matter? It's happened.

I knew it would happen.

What are you talking about? Look.

Your slippers are covered with mud! Yes.

And the hem of my robe... it's wet. As

though I'd been walking in wet grass.

But you couldn't have been

out! Blood on my hands.

Oh, Aunt Martha, what have I

done? Where did I go last night?

Stop it, Phyllis. You couldn't

have been out. It's impossible!

But my hands...

the robe...

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George Bricker

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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