His name is Philip Marlowe. He works as a private detective. He isn’t looking for adventures—they find him. Like that fine March day when he only reminded some tough guy that you have to pay for your drinks.
"Maybe you’re right about something, — the tough guy replied — but I wouldn’t, if I were you, push it too hard." And then his hard hand patted the revolver...
But their paths will cross again. Because they’re both looking for the same beauty.
He’s tall, strong, and gives nobody any slack. Any beatings don’t leave lasting serious consequences for him. He’s brave, but not very cautious—he often goes to dangerous criminals without a weapon, and they beat him savagely, but a day or two later he’s whole and sound again, and risks his life so boldly that it takes your breath away. He can drink in unbelievable quantities. There’s always a bottle of whiskey kept in his desk drawer, and he invariably takes it out whenever someone drops by his office or when he has nothing else to do.