Samuel Spade had a long, thin jaw, a protruding V at the chin, and a softer V at the mouth.The line of the nostrils formed another, smaller V; the gray-yellow eyes were horizontal; above the aquiline nose, there were two wrinkles between the brows, and two thick eyebrows grew outward, also like a V; The tall and flat temples are gathered together in front of the forehead, forming another V.He looks like a likable blond fiend. He said to Effie Palin, "What is it, honey?" She was a slender girl, suntanned and brown, and her thin tawny wool dress clung to her body as if wet.Her shining, boyish face was framed by lively brown eyes.She closed the door behind her, leaned on it, and said, "There is a girl who wants to see you, and her name is Wen Deli."

"Is it the client?" "I think so. You'll be glad to see her, she's a great beauty." "Let her in, dear," Spade said, "let her in." Effie Palin unlocked the door again, pushed the door open and walked to the outside office, put her hand on the doorknob, and said, "Come in, Miss Wendley." Someone said "thank you", and that voice was so gentle that it could only be heard clearly with the most pure and correct enunciation.A young woman entered through the door.She walked slowly and hesitantly, studying Spade with cobalt blue eyes that were shy and tentative.She is slender and soft, tall and straight, with long legs and breasts, and slender hands and feet.Her dress was two shades of blue which must have been chosen to match the color of her eyes.The curls under the blue cap were dark red, and the lips were a brighter red.When she smiled timidly, her white teeth gleamed between her crescent lips.

Spade rose to salute, pointing with his thick fingers to an oak chair next to his desk.He was a full six feet tall, with sloping, thick shoulders that made his body look comical—as wide side to side as front to back—and made his freshly ironed gray coat look ill-fitting. Miss Wendley said "Thank you" in a low voice, which was as soft as before.Then she sat down on the edge of the chair. Spade sat in his swivel chair, turned a quarter turn to face her, and smiled politely.His lips don't part when he smiles, and all the V's on his face get longer.The crackling sound of Effie's typing, the faint ringing sound, and the faint whirring sound of pushing the machine head came through the closed door one by one.In the office next door, an electrical appliance vibrated dully.On Spade's desk, a bent cigarette lit in a brass ashtray full of cigarette butts, ash like irregular gray flakes scattered on the yellow table top, green note This and various documents.A window with beige curtains was open eight or ten inches, and a breeze blew from the yard outside the window, slightly smelling of ammonia.The cigarette ash on the table trembled with the wind.

Miss Wendley looked worriedly at the quivering gray flakes.She sat only on the outer edge of the chair, her feet flat on the ground, as if she was about to stand up.Her black gloved hand clutched a flat black handbag on her lap.Spade leaned back in the chair and asked, "Miss Wendry, what can I do for you?" She took a breath, looked at him, then swallowed, and said eagerly, "Can you—I think—I—that—" Then she bit her lower lip tightly with her white teeth, and said nothing, her deep eyes filled with pleading. Spade nodded with a smile to show that he understood her situation; and the smile was so pleasant that it seemed to say "no big deal".He said: "Come on, tell me what happened. Start at the beginning so we know what needs to be done. Better start with the first thing you can recall."

"That's in New York." "Ok." "I don't know where she met him. I mean, I don't know where in New York. She's five years younger than me—seventeen this year—and we don't have the same circle of friends. I don't think we ever As close as the other sisters. Mom and Dad are in Europe and they can't take the blow. I have to get her back before they come back." "Okay," he said. "They're coming back early next month." Spade's eyes lit up. "Then we have two weeks," he said. "I didn't know what she did until she wrote. I was going crazy." Her lips trembled, and she rubbed the black bag with her hands. "I was afraid that she would do something embarrassing, so I dare not go to the police station; but I am afraid that something will happen to her, so I think I should call the police. I don’t have anyone to consult, I don’t know what to do, what can I do?”

"There's nothing you can do about it in that case," said Spade, "but then she wrote?" "Well. I sent her a telegram telling her to go home. The address on the telegram was the post office here, and it was on deposit. It was the only address she had given me. I waited a whole week without a call back, nor Not a word from her. Mom and Dad were coming back, so I came to San Francisco to see her. I wrote her that I was coming. Shouldn't I tell her?" "Maybe. But it's always hard to know what to do. You didn't find her?" "No, not found. I wrote to her that I would wait for her at the Hotel San Marco. I begged her, even if she didn't want to go home with me, to come and let me talk to her. But she didn't come. I waited for three days, but she didn't come, and there was no news at all."

Spade nodded his blond devil-like head, frowning sympathetically, and pursed his lips tightly. "It's horrible," said Miss Wendley, trying to force a smile. "I can't just sit there—waiting—not knowing what happened to her, or how she is." She couldn't laugh.She is shaking. "The only address I have on hand is that post office. I wrote her another letter and I went to the post office myself yesterday afternoon. I stayed there till dark but didn't see her. I went again this morning and still no Saw Corinna. But I saw Floyd Thursby." Spade nodded again.His brows furrowed, replaced by an alert and focused expression.

"He won't tell me where Corinna is," she said desperately. "He won't tell me anything but that she's fine and happy. But how can I trust him? He'll tell me that anyway." yes, isn't it?" "True," Spade said, "but it might be true." "I hope so. I wish so," she said aloud, "but I can't just go home—no one's seen, no phone calls. He's not going to take me to her. He said She doesn't want to see me. I don't believe it. He promised I'd tell her about our meeting and bring her to meet me at the hotel tonight—if she wanted to. He said he knew she wouldn't; he said if she didn't Yes, he'll come by himself. He—"

When the door opened, she covered her mouth in surprise and stopped. The man who opened the door stepped in, said, "Ah, sorry!", took off his brown hat hastily, and backed out. "It's all right, Miles," Spade said to him. "Come in. Miss Wendley, this is Mr. Archer, my partner." Miles Archer came into the office again, closed the door, smiled down at Miss Wendley, and raised his hat casually as a salute.He was of medium height, stocky, with broad shoulders, a thick neck, a broad jaw, a jovial red face, and short, grizzled hair.He was apparently in his late forties.Spade is also in his thirties.

Spade said: "Miss Wendry's sister eloped here from New York with a guy named Floyd Thursby. Miss Wendry has met Thursby and made an appointment to meet him tonight. He might Bring her sister with him, but he probably won't do that. Miss Wendley wants us to find her sister, let her leave him, and send her home." He looked at Miss Wendley, "Is that right?" "Yes." She said vaguely.Spade kept smiling at her and nodding to reassure her.She didn't feel so embarrassed at first, but now she blushed from embarrassment again.She looked at the handbag on her lap, running her gloved fingers nervously around it.

Spade winked at his partner.Miles Archer stepped forward and stood on the corner of the desk.The girl stared at her bag and Miles stared at her.He scanned her from head to toe with impudent little brown eyes.Then, looking at Spade, he silently whistled in approval. Spade put up two fingers on the arm of the chair, made a quick warning gesture, and said: "It shouldn't be difficult. It's just that we send someone to the hotel tonight and follow him. Let him lead us to your sister. If she comes with him, you can persuade her to go home with you; if we find her, but she won't leave him, we'll make another plan, There will always be a way." "That's right," said Archer, in a rough voice. Miss Wendley immediately looked up at Spade, frowning. "Ah, then you must be careful!" Her voice was trembling, her lips twitched nervously, and she managed to utter these words, "I'm terrified of him, and I'm afraid he will do something. At her age So young, and he brought her here from New York, it wasn't a child's play—would he...wouldn't he...do something to her?" Spade smiled and patted the arm of the chair. "Leave it to us," he said. "We know how to deal with such people." "But he won't do anything?" She was still worried. "It's not impossible." Spade nodded solemnly, "But you can rest assured that we are doing business." "It's not that I'm worried about you," she said eagerly, "but I want you to understand that he's a dangerous man. I really think he's capable of anything. I'm worried that he won't hesitate to . . . Corinne killed. He wouldn't do that, would he?" "You didn't frighten him, did you?" "I told him I just wanted her to come home before mum and dad came back so they wouldn't know what she was up to. I promised him I would never mention it to my parents if he would cooperate. But if he refuses, Dad will definitely give him a good look. I... I don’t think he will believe a word I say.” "Will he marry her? That will cover it up," asked Archer. The girl's face turned red, and she replied in a panic: "He has a wife and three children, all in England. This is what Corinna wrote to me, explaining why she must go away with him." "A man of that sort is likely to have a family," said Spade, "though not necessarily in England." He leaned forward for a pencil and notebook. "What does he look like?" "Oh, he's about thirty-five, about your height, very dark, maybe tanned. He has dark hair, thick eyebrows. He's always loud, a little nervous, and has a bad temper. He always gives the impression that he has nothing to do with violence." Spade scribbled something on a piece of paper and asked without looking up, "What color are your eyes?" "Grey blue, looks watery, but not effeminate. Ah, by the way, he has a ditch on his chin." "Which body type? Thin, medium, or strong?" "An athlete's build. He has broad shoulders, always holds his head up, and has a military air about him. When I saw him this morning, he was wearing a light gray suit and a hat. Gray hat." "What does he do for a living?" said Spade, putting down his pencil. "I don't know," she said, "I have no idea." "When did he come to see you?" "After eight o'clock." "Yes, Miss Wendley, we'll send someone there. If—" "Mr. Spade, could this be you or Mr. Archer?" She folded her hands in a gesture of entreaty. "Can either of you please come forward in person? I don't mean the one you sent. No, but—ah—I'm so worried that something will happen to Corinne. I'm so afraid of him. Can you go? I can... I can pay a little more, that's what I should." He opened the handbag with his fingers, took out two hundred-dollar bills and put them on Spade's desk, "Is this enough?" "That's enough," said Archer, "I'll take care of it." Miss Wendley stood up and shook his hand excitedly. "Thank you! Thank you!" she cried, extending her hand to Spade again, thanking him again and again. "You're welcome," said Spade, "and I'd be happy to help you. It would be easier for us if you could meet him downstairs, or spend a little time with him in the hall." "I will," she replied, thanking the pair again. "And don't come to me," Archer reminded her, "I'll always be watching you."
Spade sent Wendry to the corridor.When he got back to his desk, Archer nodded at the two hundred-dollar bills and exclaimed triumphantly, "That's pretty cool!" There are many more." Spade put away the other bill, sat down, and said, "Come, don't mind her. What do you think of her?" "Very cute! You told me not to think of her." Archer laughed suddenly, but there was no pleasure in his voice. "Maybe you saw her first, but I opened my mouth to take care of this matter first." He put his hands in his trouser pockets and stood staggeringly. "You'll blow her heart, you will." Spade grinned maliciously, showing his molars behind the gums. "You've got a knack for it." He started rolling a cigarette.

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