as his way.”

    “And Roger?”

    “ith lorek.”

    “ will lorek do?”

    “ends to break into ties.”

    S ter ahan before.

    “t let o Pantalaimon. “too many of em. I wiscake messages and all, and we could make a proper plan....”

    t of her life.

    A mans voice spoke in t away, and said, “ho are you?”

    Salaimon became a bat at once, s the wall.

    “E? Speak up! Speak up!”

    “Be a firefly again, Pan,” s dont go too close.”

    ttle  of ligtered around t  been a er all; it tered in Pantalaimons luminance, and tered , lay in  ongue occasionally as Pantalaimon flew near.

    “s your name?” she said.

    “Jotelia,”  ty of Gloucester. ho are you?”

    “Lyra Belacqua.  hey locked you up for?”

    “Malice and jealousy...here do you come from? Eh?”

    “From Jordan College,” she said.

    “? Oxford?”

    “Yes.”

    “Is t scoundrel trelaill there? Eh?”

    “the Palmerian Professor? Yes,” she said.

    “Is ion long ago.

    Duplicitous plagiarist! Coxcomb!”

    Lyra made a neutral sound.

    “ons yet?” ting oward Lyras.

    She moved back.

    “I dont kno of pure , “no,” s on. “I remember noo check some figures.

    And...o e about Dust as s it.”

    “Scoundrel! ted tly t Lyra  his shanks.

    Drops of saliva fle of h.

    “Yea .”

    If it tle girl to turn up in  notice.   ion t Lyra could use.

    S carefully near  near enougo touc near enougalaimons tiny ligo show him clearly