Sometirred in tudy . S so do and tapped on t opened almost at once.
“Good girl. Come in quickly. e got long,” said ter, and dreain back across tered. he was fully dressed in his usual black.
“Arent I going after all?” Lyra asked.
“Yes; I cant prevent it,” said ter, and Lyra didnt notice at time o say. “Lyra, Im going to give you somet promise to keep it private. ill you so t?”
“Yes,” Lyra said.
o took from a dra. cal. It mig.
“ is it?” she said.
“Its an aleter. Its one of only six t private. It ter if Mrs. Coulter didnt kno it. Your uncle—”
“But do?”
“It tells you truto read it, youll o learn by yourself. Nos getting ligo your room before anyone sees you.”
over trument and t it into .
Sried to look up at o say about Uncle Asriel?”
“Your uncle presented it to Jordan College some years ago. —”
Before urgent knock on tary tremor.
“Quick norong.
Men and ides muco t. Go well, Lyra; bless you, child, bless you.
Keep your own counsel.”
“ter,” sifully.
Clutco , s tudy by to see ters daemon cer already; t fresir in the air.
“s t youve got?” said Mrs. Lonsdale, closing ttered little suitcase h a snap.
“ter gave it me. Cant it go in tcase?” “too late. Im not opening it noll o go in your coat pocket, is. o ttery; dont keep ting....”
It er so ts s guilty for not of ing Mrs. Coulter. no doubt Mrs. Coulter urn up eventually.
And noting next to talaimons stle ermine pao paed against ter sat s talked. Suc talk! Lyra oxicated; not about time, but about London, and taurants and ballrooms, t embassies or ministries, trigues beter. Lyra more fascinated by t Mrs. Coulter o be accompanied by a scent of grourbing but enticing at time: it he smell of glamour.
* * * t ride across t commissionaire (a sort of porter ed Mrs. Coulter and Lyra, who sized him up expressionlessly.
And t...
Lyra could only gasp.
S deal of beauty in life, but it y, Oxford beauty—grand and stony and masculine. In Jordan College, muc, but notty. In Mrs. Coulters flat, everytty. It riped frames, an antique looking-glass, fanciful sconces bearing anbaric lamps oo, and floain rail, and a soft green leaf-pattern carpet underfoot; and every surface seemed to Lyras innocent eye, ty little china boxes and shepherdesses and harlequins of porcelain.
Mrs. Coulter smiled at ion.
“Yes, Lyra,” s to sake your coat off and Ill take you to then well have some lunch and go shopping....”
to struggled out of taps best, and often flecked . But er , to. And around tinted mirror ttle pink lig sly illuminated figure quite unlike the Lyra she knew.
Pantalaimon, ing ters daemon, crouc o ter and suddenly remembered ter in pocket. S t on a cer to keep it secret from Mrs. Coulter....
Oer er trying to poison Uncle Asriel. obedience to?
Sily and o tting room, ill lay untouched, of course.
“Ready?” said Mrs. Coulter. “I t o tic Institute for lunc as he privileges I have.”
ty minutes ook to a grand stone-fronted building silver on tables, and ate calves liver and bacon.
“Calves liver is all riger told if youre stuck for food in tic, you mustnt eat bear liver. ts full of a poison tll kill you in minutes.”
As te, Mrs. Coulter pointed out some of t tables.
“Dyou see tleman ie? ts Colonel Carborn. balloon fligall man by t got up is Dr. Broken Arrow.”
“Is he a Skraeling?”
“Yes. s in t Northern Ocean....”
Lyra looked at t men, y and a about t, but too. Dr. Broken Arro bear livers; sed whe Librarian of Jordan College would.
After luncer sic relics in titute library—t ion in an unknoent; a fire-striker used by Captain o Van tierens Land.
Sold tory of eac stir ion for t, brave, distant heroes.
And t sraordinary day s dizzying. to go into a vast building full of beautiful clot you try t yourself in mirrors...And tty....Lyras cloto of t for looks; and so find Mrs. Coulter suggesting t, and paying for it all, and more...
By time t-eyed iredness.
Mrs. Coulter ordered most of took one or to t.
ted foam. Mrs. Coulter came into to le. Pantalaimon cy until Mrs. Coulter looked at s and turned aing ly from teries as to look away from Lyra before.
ter tdress ed flohen bed.
So soft, tle, t on table! And ttle cupboards and a dressing table and a c of drao tty curtains covered in stars and moons and planets! Lyra lay stiffly, too tired to sleep, too enced to question anything.
er goodnig, Pantalaimon plucked at hing?”
S once ing up cross-legged in t, alaimon c and looked at er had given her.
“ did ?” she whispered.
“An aleter.”
t in asking meant. It lay al face gleaming, tely mac ing to places around t instead of ts of ttle pictures, eaced raordinary precision, as if on ivory and slenderest sable brusurned to look at ted by a skull; a cy-six altoget even guess .
“talaimon. “See if you can up.”
ttle knurled er isfying clicks. You could arrange to point at any of tures, and once to position, pointing exactly at ter of eac move.
to be made of a duller metal t control its movement at all; it sed to, like a compass needle, except t it didnt settle.
“Meter means measure,” said Pantalaimon. “Like ter. told us t.”
“Yes, but ts t,” s dyou ts for?”
Neit a long time turning to point at one symbol or anot, dolpe, compasses; candle, t, cs never-ceasing errant ood notrigued and deligy and tail. Pantalaimon became a mouse to get closer to it, and rested iny paton eyes brigy as che needle swing.
“ do you ter meant about Uncle Asriel?” she said.
“Per to keep it safe and give it to him.”
“But ter o poison s te. Pero say dont give it to him.”
“No,” Pantalaimon said, “it safe from—”
t knock on the door.
Mrs. Coulter said, “Lyra, I s t out if I ired, and omorrow.”
Lyra ter sly under ts.
“All riger,” she said.
“Goodnight now.”
“Goodnight.”
Sc. Before sucked ter under t in case.