“Shoo her in, darling,” said Spade. “Shoo her in.”

 

Effie Perine opened the door again, following it back into the outer office,

standing with a hand on the knob while saying: “Will you come in, Miss

Wonderly?”

 

A voice said, “Thank you,” so softly that only the purest articulation made the

words intelligible, and a young woman came through the doorway.

 

She advanced slowly, with tentative steps, looking at Spade with cobalt-blue

eyes that were both shy and probing.

 

She was tall and pliantly slender, without angularity anywhere. Her body was

erect and high-breasted, her legs long, her hands and feet narrow.

 

She wore two shades of blue that had been selected because of her eyes.

 

The hair curling from under her blue hat was darkly red, her full lips more

brightly red. White teeth glistened in the crescent her timid smile made.

 

Spade rose bowing and indicating with a thick-fingered hand the oaken armchair

beside his desk. He was quite six feet tall. The steep rounded slope of his

shoulders made his body seem almost conical—no broader than it was thick—and

kept his freshly pressed grey coat from fitting very well.