in that field, but the names and dates are all right, and at least none of your authorities or their works are out-and-out fakes. He’s all excited over it.”
“That’s swell, as long as he doesn’t get too enthusiastic to see through it if it’s phoney.”
“Oh, he wouldn’t—not Ted! He’s too good at his stuff for that.”
“Uh-huh, the whole damned Perine family’s wonderful,” Spade said, “including you and the smudge of soot on your nose.”
“He’s not a Perine, he’s a Christy.” She bent her head to look at her nose in her vanity case mirror. “I must’ve got that from the fire.” She scrubbed the smudge with the corner of a handkerchief.
“The Perine-Christy enthusiasm ignite Berkeley?” he asked.
She made a face at him while patting her nose with a powdered pink disc. “There was a boat on fire when I came back. They were towing it out from the pier and the smoke blew all over our ferryboat.”
Spade put his hands on the arms of his chair. “Were you near enough to see the name of the boat?” he asked.
“Yes. La Paloma . Why?”
Spade smiled ruefully. “I’m damned if I know why, sister,” he said.