IN THE COOL OF THE DAY

Christine Bonner is a wealthy, beautiful young American woman with chronic health problems. She has been separated from her adoring but overly-protective husband Sam, but agrees to return to him. She meets an English friend of Sam's, a writer and publishing-company executive, Murray Logan, who shares her great interest in Greece.

Logan also is unhappily married because his vicious and shallow wife, Sybil, blames him for an automobile accident that scarred her and killed their son. Christine and Murray meet again in England and their attraction grows.

The two couples plan to vacation together in Greece, but Sam must stay home because of a family illness. Murray and Christine fall in love as they visit Greek ruins and other tourist attractions.

Sybil, besides being bored with the cultural landmarks, realizes what is happening and writes Sam in New York. She then tells Murray she is leaving him, running off to the Riviera for a fling with an Englishman she met in Greece. She tells Christine that “he’s all yours.”

Hearing that Christine’s controlling mother is pursuing them, they continue their travels, eventually making love. Christine’s mother finds them and takes her away. Christine falls ill from the stress and exertion and, according to Sam, refuses to fight for her life; she eventually contracts pneumonia.

Sam suggests that Murray visit the hospital. Before dying, Christine tells Murray she did not want him to have to deal with her chronic illness. She makes Murray promise to do what they would have done together. He continues his travels in Greece.

Christine falls ill and dies after being separated from Murray, who ultimately continues traveling in Greece as she wished.

The film’s ending underscores the fragility of happiness and the cost of emotional repression. Christine’s death stems from both her chronic illness and the emotional turmoil of forbidden love, leaving Murray to fulfill her wish by exploring Greece alone. Instead of romantic fulfillment, the story closes on loss and the quiet persistence of longing—a sobering counterpoint to their earlier hope for escape.