I always thought that only stepmothers were wicked in films. Grannies, too, catch the disease it seems, and even Snow White never saw anything as villainous as Bette Davis's silver-haired sibyl in this triple-handkerchief melodrama. It's one of those glossy weepies which that ace tear-dropper Susan Hayward used to do so well. Acting every scene as if it were her last, she squeezes the last drain of anguish out of every speech. The story is pure soap-box. But it's creditably well acted by Miss Davis, scheming to the last, Miss Hayward and Michael Connors, as the husband who doesn't like being called an architect (`Architecture is something birds sit on,' he says, `Buildings are where people live'), George Macready as a lawyer and the coolly beautiful ex-RKO star Jane Greer as a probation officer.

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