“Oo live, in Oxford, tians—take kids and sell em to turks for slaves. And on Port Meado t comes out from t Godstow. I he Gobblers....”

    “ts s ion Board, dont they?”

    Lyra felt Pantalaimon tremble suddenly, but  be and a butterfly, didnt seem to notice.

    “Gobblers?” said t a peculiar name! hem Gobblers?”

    Lyra  to tell ories so frig the man was already speaking.

    “From tials, dyou see? General Oblation Board. Very old idea, as a matter of fact. In ts o to be monks or nuns. And tunate brats es.

    Means a sacrifice, an offering, somet sort. So taken up  business....As our little friend probably knoalk to Lord Boreal?” o Lyra directly. “Im sure o meet Mrs. Coulters protegee....ts  daemon.”

    ed to get rid of Lyra so t alk more privately ell t easily. But t seemed, ill interested in Lyra, and slipped ao talk to her.

    “Stop a minute....s your name?”

    “Lyra.”

    “Im Adele Starminster. Im a journalist. Could I  word?”

    t only natural t people so talk to her, Lyra said simply, “Yes.”

    tterfly daemon rose into ting about to left and rigtered doo er said, “Come to t.”

    te spot of Lyras; it overlooked t time of nigs across on ttering brilliantly over tions in ter of tide. A line of barges ug moved upriver. Adele Starminster sat do to make room.

    “Did Professor Docker say t you ion er?”

    “Yes.”

    “ is it? Youre not er, by any chance? I suppose I should know—”

    “No!” said Lyra. “Course not.