Hours later, with the ink still wet, the final undercover purchase was made and the raids began.
Jessica blew across the last line of wet ink, then leaned back and looked down at the finished creation.
That probably meant the wet ink had imprinted in negative across my face.
He wrote the words after the name, and shook the sandbox over the wet ink.
He thrust both of them, the ink still wet, at the messenger who answered his call.
The web grew faint, like wet ink washed with a gush of clear water.
He shook sand over the wet ink to dry it.
Her marriage contract was still on the table, the ink still wet.
The smell told him it was the Scriptorium; wet ink and paint drying.
This was first done by sprinkling pounce over the wet ink.
