Lyra moaned and trembled uncontrollably, just as if s of er so cold t  alaimon simply lay against o  aime of Mrs. Coulter, busy preparing a drink of somet of all of ttle fingers ly over Lyras body s contents.

    “Sit up, dear, and drink ter, and le arm slipped around Lyras back and lifted her.

    Lyra clenc relaxed almost at once as Pantalaimon t to her:

    ere only safe as long as end. S taining tears, and to her surprise and shame she sobbed and sobbed.

    Mrs. Coulter made sympatic sounds and put to ted handkerchief.

    “Cry as muco, darling,” said t soft voice, and Lyra determined to stop as soon as sruggled to ears, soget still s.

    Pantalaimon played t aimidly at tc o Lyras s.”

    S up and took t cup in boternately sipping and bloo cool it. S  pretend han shed ever done in her life.

    “Lyra, darling,” Mrs. Coulter murmured, stroking   you forever!   lost? Did someone take you out of t?”

    “Yeah,” Lyra whispered.

    “, dear?”

    “A man and a woman.”

    “Guests at ty?”

    “I t airs and I  to get it and took me in a car some quick and dodged a me. But I didnt know where I was....”

    Anot tend tory.

    “And I just  trying to find my  me....And t me in a van ook me somew was.”

    it  past, ence s a little strengt s and familiar and never quite predictable, namely lying, s a sort of mastery again, ty and control t ter gave her.

    So be careful not to say anyto be vague in some places and invent plaus