But what tale did they tell?
Whose were they?
Her reading on finger prints had been very limited but, like everything she did, to the point.

She studied those before her, traced out as best she could the loops, whorls, arches, and composites, even counted the ridges on some of them.

It was not so difficult, after all.
She stopped in an uptown branch of her brokers in one of the hotels.
The market was very quiet, and even the Rubber Syndicate seemed to be marking time.

As she went out she passed the telephone booths.

Should she call up Warrington?
Would he misinterpret it?
What if he did?
She was mistress of her own tongue.