DarkLady, you inspired me to look a little further, and I found Joan Bennett's autobiography on top of the bookshelf right next to the bookshelf upon which I thought I had put it. And here's what she says:
"Anything can happen and does, with harrowing frequency. First of all, I murdered my husband and buried him in the basement. Then, a very sinister character moved into the house and tried to blackmail me into marrying him. I looked on his proposal as a fate worse than death, rushed to the nearest cliff to hurl myself into the surf below, changed my mind and, like an utter fool, confessed to the murder. But when the police investigated and came to search the basement, my husband's body had disappeared. Apparently, I hadn't killed him after all, I'd made an untidy job of it, and he's still lurking around somewhere out there in the world. As Elizabeth Collins, mistress of the mansion, I seldom leave it unless I need a vacation and then the writers conveniently arrange for me to have a splendid nervous breakdown or they keep me in a deathlike trance, until it's time to go back to work again."