The covers and the first and last pages are pretty wet, and the edges of the rest are rather damp.

It'll be smudged somewhat, but I don't believe there is a single word that can't be made out.

It is lucky it didn't prolong its bath, though, isn't it?
All we need to do, now, is to put it in the sun to dry for a few minutes." Selecting a sunny spot near by, she arranged the volume against a stone and deftly separated the pages so that the air could circulate more freely between them; and one would have said, from her manner of ready assurance, that she had learned from long experience exactly how to dry a manuscript that had been thrown in the river and rescued just in the nick of time.

That was Betty Jo's way.

She always did everything without hesitation,--just as though she had spent the twenty-three years of her life doing exactly that particular thing.
Kneeling over the manuscript, and gently moving the wet sheets, she said, without looking up: "Do you always bath your manuscripts like this before you turn them over to your stenographer to type, Mr.Burns ?" In spite of his troubled state of mind, Brian smiled.
The clear, matter-of-fact voice went on, while the competent hands moved the drying pages.