In a valley so tream milky er splass fleiff  clustered below.

    tream better of insects and time to time a stronger gust of  another and groan like a cello.

    It  sunligs of lemon-gold brilliance lanced doo t floor betill, never constant, because drifting mist en float among treetops, filtering all t to a pearly sheen and

    brusure t glistened ed. Sometimes tness in to tiny drops  and ed do rustling patter among the millions of needles.

    tream, er of  t of to a  its reamed out in tual ains, and offerings of barley cakes and dried tea  of t, tual rainbows.

    tating and fasting and praying, and ted for t y feet or so deep,  tures living in it for years s.

    But t  lay rous golden fur, and urned a pine cone t, snapping off tc t nuts.

    Be beyond t er in a small pan over a napove. tered a er looked up.

    Coming along t pater kne be kno sation and prayer, and under a voo speak to a man. Ama s sed.

    time, t alone. o ted a little way off.

    Ama came to trance and bowed.

    quot;My fat; she said.

    quot;Greetings, c; said Mrs. Coulter.

    tton, ers feet. t a little ton to speak in a rapid, nervous voice. Mrs. Coulter understood some of tain people, but it o let tioned to to close o c tle black terfly daemon tering closer and closer until tled on a horny forefinger.

    t o er felt a tiny stream of understanding floo o take refuge in t it  sh her who was in some way dangerous and powerful.

    It  er, or ? Did