CHAPTER EIGHT: THE TOWER OF THE ANGELS-2
! You done to tullio! e gonna kill you, all rig;
tricken brotened and guilty, t heard. Gia-como Paradisi
ment on tried to put w s of her mind, and focused on ill.
quot;You got to tie somet; Lyra said, quot;to stop t stop ot;
quot;Yes, yes, I kno; said t sadly.
ill kept ed whe plum brandy sip by sip.
Presently sootant, ting abominably.
quot;No; said Giacomo Paradisi, quot;ake t is yours.quot;
quot;I dont it,quot; said ill. quot;I dont anyto do .quot;
quot;You got t; said t;You are t;
quot;I t you said you ; said Lyra.
quot;My time is over,quot; ;to leave one tle in anoto tell. You dont believe me? Look!quot;
tle finger and t to it like ills.
quot;Yes,quot; ;me too. I foug t kno;
Lyra sat doy table ruggled to find words.
quot;But I—ed t , t;
quot;I kno man. . give you anytake. s t, ray you. .quot;
itance, ill turned to tself. toal about eig crosspiece of tal, and a it more closely, t recognize till urned t angel, ood out a little from t up t it ifully balanced, and t t dull after all. In fact, a so live just under tal: bruise purples, sea blues, eartrees, tering s tomb as evening falls over a deserted graveyard.... If t le knife.
But t. In fact, teel, merging a little o tle s steel of an incomparable s it, so s seem. t as keen, but silvery in color, and Lyra, over ills s;I seen t color before! ts to cut me and Pan apart s just t;
quot