SAMUEL SPADE’s
jaw was long and bony, his chin a jutting v under the more flexible v of his mouth. His nostrils curved back to make another, smaller, v. His yellow-grey eyes were horizontal. The v motif was picked up again by thickish brows rising outward from twin creases above a hooked nose, and his pale brown hair grew down-from high flat temples-in a point on his forehead. He looked rather pleasantly like a blond satan. He said to Effie Perine; “Yes, sweetheart?”
She
was a lanky sunburned girl whose tan dress of thin woolen stuff clung to her
with an effect of dampness. Her eves were brown and playful in a shiny boyish
face. She finished shutting the door behind her, leaned against if, and said:
“There’s
a girl want to see you. Her name’s Wonderly,”
“A
customer?”
“I
guess so. You’ll want to see anyway: she’s a knockout.”
“Shoo
her in, darling,” said Spade. “Shoo her in.”
Eiffe
Perine opened the door again , following it back into the outer office ,
standing with the hand on the knob while saying: “Will you come in, Wonderly?”
to be continue.....
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