Mr. Blake zips out of his office and says goodnight to his secretary, although why he is leaving this doll there to work after he skates is left unanswered.  He rides the elevator down which, given his haste, is probably the express.

In the lobby, a frumpy woman asks to talk to him.  Surprisingly, he does acknowledge her by tipping his hat, but silently hustles right out the door.  The woman follows him down the sidewalk.  She is swimming against all the tides — the wind is blowing against her, everyone in New York seems to be heading the other direction on the sidewalk, and Blake is figuratively pushing against her desire to speak to him.

He spots the woman tailing him in a coffee-shop window, at a frankly impossible angle BTW.  He picks up the pace even more to avoid this dame.  He sees sanctuary around the corner where there is a bar with a neon sign NO WOMEN ADMITTED.  And also, although the sign does not mention it, apparently hats are required and she is hatless.  I mean, the number of hats in this place is unbelievable.  I know men used to wear hats, but didn’t they take them off indoors?  He stays for only one drink, does not see the woman peering in the window, and leaves.

Unfortunately, she corners him on the train and sits beside him.  He recognizes her as his former employee Miss Dent, but she is sick, depressed, and unemployed.  When Blake tries to move to the next car, she pulls a gun on him.  Sensing a flashback, I’m not feeling so well myself.  It seems like only a trimester ago . . .

Miss Dent is happy at her job as Blake’s secretary.  After they work late one night arranging the Pensky File, Blake suggests that they have dinner.  Afterward, he walks her home to her brownstone located conveniently near the train station.  She invites him up for a drink.  She makes frequent references to her loneliness, but a gal that open to a last-second, late night dinner, and going straight back to her food-less place with no room-mate for straight liquor ought to be pretty popular.  Soon enough, while playing some stock, white-people jazz LPs, they are kissing.  Cut to the next day.

Blake breezes through the door in his usual brisk gait and barely acknowledges Miss Dent.  Miss Dent says Mr. Johnson is waiting in his office and is crushed by his ignoring her after their night of passion.  Wow, she really doesn’t get around much.

Isn’t this kinda how both of them got into trouble?

The two men talk, and Johnson comes out to speak to her.  He says she is being let go due to her poor performance; presumably on the job, not last night.  She will get 2 weeks severance and any unmarked lunches in the break-room refrigerator.  She bolts into Blake’s office but he is no longer there.  The only signs of his departure are a swinging coat hanger and an executive-shaped hole in the door.

Back in the present, 3 months later, Miss Dent tells Blake that she would not have told his wife.  Actually, if he was afraid she would tell his wife, he would be more likely to give her a raise than fire her.  She says, “I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking I’m crazy.  And it’s true.  I have been very sick.  But I’m going to be better.  It’s going to make me much better to talk to you.  I was in the hospital for eight months before I came to work for you.  I thought I was alright, but since you fired me, I’ve gotten all confused.  But I’m not afraid to kill you because I don’t care what happens to myself.”

Well, this is a downer.  Miss Dent really is in pain.  This isn’t the usual merry murder mix-ups and homicidal hijinks that we usually get on AHP.  She really is melting down due to her loneliness, depression, and that scotch probably isn’t helping.  This is more of a pure character study than I remember on AHP before.  Because Phyllis Thaxter pulls it off so magnificently, I felt more like I was watching a play or one of the drama anthologies from the 1950s.  The last 10 minutes are almost an interrupted monologue by Thaxter.

Miss Dent leads Blake at gunpoint off the train and down the dark tracks.  There is no big twist or conclusion.  She says what she needs to say and walks off into the dark.

Not your usual AHP offering, especially in the 2nd half, but another great episode of the type no one knows how to make anymore.

Other Stuff:

• Based on a short story by John Cheever who I kinda made fun of last week.
• 24 references:  1) Miss Dent standing behind Blake with a gun to his head in a train yard like Jack Bauer did to Ryan Chappell.  2) Blake often had an uncanny resemblance to President  Logan.  Man, having that series in constant rotation for 10 years is getting to me.
• Thanks to Jack at Bare*Bones for helping me appreciate the episode.  His background on the source material and insights on the episode filled in some important gaps for me.
• This is the 2nd consecutive AHP with no murder.  Let’s not forget why we’re here, fellas.