She walked quickly away from the river, because the emba was wide and well lit. There was a tangle of narrow streets between there and the Royal Arctistitute, which was the only place Lyra was sure of being able to find, and into that dark maze she hurried now.
If only she knew London as well as she knew Oxford! Then she would have known which streets to avoid; or where she could sge some food; or, best of all, which doors to kno and find shelter. In that cold night, the dark alleys all around were alive with movement a life, and she knew none of it.
Pantalaimon became a wildcat and sed the dark all around with his night-pierg eyes. Every so ofteop, bristling, and she would turn aside from the entrance shed been about to go down. The night was full of noises: bursts of drunken laughter, two raucous voices raised in song, the clatter and whine of some badly oiled mae in a basement. Lyra walked delicately through it all, her senses magnified and mingled w……（内容加载失败！）
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