“What’s the matter? Not blood!” inquired Nina, dropping the knife.
“Worse,” declared Sally gloomily. “We have made a mess of things. Fingerprints! There would have been some, but I’ve mauled it all over!”
“Fingerprints wouldn’t be any good to us. You mean you were going to give it to the police?”
“We might have. It depends. But now, I don’t know; they’d probably be awfully mad with us for having smudged the marks.”
Good grief! These girls are so aggravatingly air-headed.
On the other hand, the developments in this chapter ... such a reminder to that other, much superior novel published in the same year.