"Reported as true by those to whom it happened... Nobody has been able to disprove it..." Always the glib phrases, delivered by the charming and plausible John Newland by way of a statutory disclaimer as to the truth of the (supposedly) real-life episode.
A beautiful young woman lies close to death in hospital, and the police are urgently scouring the city for a donor with the same rare blood-group. They knock on the door of the Norman Lloyd character, a lonely bachelor recluse who has changed his name because he doesn't want to be found. This throws up a technicality on which the cops are able to arrest him, and they then deliver him to the hospital on false pretences, where he has to be shamed at last by her desperate father into enabling the transfusion.
Presently it becomes clear why this regular blood-donor has become so reluctant. Several of the more recent recipients have met with tragic accidents, and he claims he can foresee early death for the girl. When her landlady smells gas coming from her locked bedroom, this prophecy seems to have been fulfilled, though the leak turned out to be accidental (yet still potentially lethal, surely). Equally a swimming incident leads to misunderstandings. Then suddenly she feels it necessary to accept a job as housekeeper to her saviour ("I haven't had any better offers"), but there we have to leave it.
Now it is simply not plausible that a girl half as glamorous as the young Suzanne Pleshette would have been short of offers. Not living in America, I got a shock when I saw the name, as I had caught her only in her fifties in the title role of 'Leona Helmsley: The Queen of Mean', where her charms are distinctly camouflaged.
About average for the series, I suppose. The versatile Norman Lloyd heads a strong cast, and I enjoyed the Gershwin-style summer-day music near the end, deceptively leading us away from tragedy.