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CHAPTER EIGHT: THE TOWER OF THE ANGELS-2
Stop,quot; said tly. quot;Relax. Dont pusle knife, not a heavy sword.

    Youre gripping it too tig your mind o your  and to t along tly, dont force it. Just o tip, ip of t do t no, and t;

    ill tried again. Lyra could see tensity in y descend over it, calming and relaxing and clarifying. ty o do range to her.

    So o her lap.

    tcogetopped trembling. No less intense, ly no too. Per he

    blade, or per  sat so naturally in ills  ttle movements ip noead of random.  turned t to find some little snag in ty air.

    quot;s t?quot; he said hoarsely.

    quot;Yes. Dont force it. Come back noo yourself.quot;

    Lyra imagined so o . ood back, dropped his hand, blinked.

    quot;I felt somet; o Giacomo Paradisi. quot;t slipping t first, and t it...quot;

    quot;Good. No again. time, . Dont ate. Dont be surprised. Dont drop t;

    ill o croucake t   ent on it; ood up again after a couple of seconds, the knife held forward already.

    time it  once,  to searc ttle snag after less te. It ely searc titc  of a scalpel. oucouco make sure, and t sidehe silver edge.

    It  Giacomo Paradisi  to be surprised.  careful  it doable before giving in to onis. Lyra tle room  like trees: a gap in midair ther world.

    And because toery, in fact, looking back toy. trees a little ance toy.

    If t already seen t  tical trick. Except t it  only optical; air , and traffic fumes,  in t-tagazze. Pantalaimon co a sing  before darting back to Lyras shou
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