"It's uncanny," pronounced Markham gloomily.
"It's positively spiritualistic," amended Vance. "It has the caressin' odor of a seance. Really, y' know, I'm beginning to suspect that some medium was hovering in the vicinage last night doing some rather tip-top materializations. I say, Markham, could you get an indictment against an ectoplasmic emanation?"
"That wasn't no spook that made those fingerprints," growled Heath, with surly truculence.
(from The "Canary" Murder Case, by S. S. Van Dine)
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