Mrs. Grant. He don’t have to say he hates. I know my brother. If a man looks at his wife, he don’t have to tell me. He implies he hates her. This was something—he went someplace and he told me something that, I think we read this in the paper, I will be honest about it, that at the World’s Fair they don’t want them in. I don’t know where I got the information.
Mr. Griffin. Do you remember any radio script he got from H. L. Hunt?
Mrs. Grant. It seems to me the day I was in his car, he took me from the hospital, and I think he had it in there before I even went to the hospital, I don’t know. It seems to me in October or September I seen something that my brother didn’t like in Life Line. I can’t use the words for this machine.
Mr. Griffin. Can you remember any other phone calls that he made on Saturday from your apartment?
Mrs. Grant. He made a lot of them. He was there until almost 8 o’clock, or 10 after 8. He did not leave before 7:30, and he was out of my house before 8:30, but he spent a good 4 hours Saturday, and he slept a little bit. He said he hadn’t slept for two or three nights.
Mr. Griffin. Did he call Tom O’Grady from your apartment?
Mrs. Grant. He may have.
Mr. Griffin. Do you remember that?
Mrs. Grant. In the back of my mind, he may have; yes. Now, I don’t know. You know what, I am going to tell you something. I wasn’t too, what do you call it when you can’t recall your thoughts—it was 2 terrible days. It was the worst days for me than a lot of people, because I was taking pills.
Mr. Burleson. Amnesia?