"My child! My daughter! Where is she? What have you done? My Lyra, youd do better to tear the fibers from my heart, she was safe with me, safe, and now where is she?"
Mrs. Coulters cry resouhrough the little chamber at the top of the adamant tower. She was bound to a chair, her hair disheveled, her clothing torn, her eyes wild; and her monkey daemon thrashed and struggled on the floor in the coils of a silver .
Lord Asriel sat nearby, scribbling on a piece of paper, taking no notice. An orderly stood beside him, glang nervously at the woman. When Lord Asriel handed him the paper, he saluted and hurried out, his terrier daemon close at his heels with her tail tucked low.
Lord Asriel turo Mrs. Coulter.
"Lyra? Frankly, I dont care," he said, his voice quiet and hoarse. "The wretched child should have stayed where she ut, and done what she was told. I t waste any more time or resources on her; if she refuses to be helped, let her deal with the sequences."
"You dohat, Asriel, or you wouldnt have…"
"I mean every word of it. The fuss shes caused is out of all proportion to her merits. An ordinary English girl, not very clever...」
"She is!" said Mrs. Coulter.
"All right; bright but not intellectual; impulsive, disho, greedy...」
"Brave, generous, loving."
"A perfectly ordinary child, distinguished by nothing...」 "Perfectly ordinary? Lyra? Shes unique.
Think of what shes done already. Dislike her if you will, Asriel, but dont you dare patronize your daughter. And she was safe with me, until...」
"Youre right," he said, getting up. "She is uo have tamed and softened you, thats no everyday feat. Shes drawn your poison, Marisa. Shes taken your teeth out. Your fires been quenched in a drizzle of seal piety. Who would have thought it? The pitiless agent of the Church, the fanatical persecutor of children, the ior of hideous maes to slice them apart and look ierrified little beings for any evidence of sin, and along es a foul-mouthed, ignorant little brat with dirty fingernails, and you clud settle your feathers over her like a hen. Well, I admit: the child must have some gift Ive never seen myself. But if all it does is turn you into a doting mother, its a pretty thin, drab, puny little gift. And now you might as well be quiet. Ive asked my chief ao e in for an urgent ference, and if you t trol your noise, Ill have you gagged."
Mrs. Coulter was more like her daughter than she knew. Her ao this was to spit in Lord Asriels face. He wiped it calmly away and said, "A gag would put ao that kind of behavior, too."
"Oh, do correct me, Asriel," she said. "Someone who displays to his under-officers a captive tied to a chair is clearly a prince of politeness. Untie me, or Ill force you to gag me."
"As you wish," he said, and took a silk scarf from the drawer; but before he could tie it around her mouth, she shook her head.
"No, no," she said, "Asriel, dont, I beg you, please dont humiliate me."
Angry tears dashed from her eyes.
"Very well, Ill untie you, but he stay in his s," he said, and dropped the scarf ba the drawer before cutting her bonds with a clasp knife.
She rubbed her wrists, stood up, stretched, and only then noticed the dition of her clothes and hair. She looked haggard and pale; the last of the Gallivespian venom still remained in her body, causing agonizing pains in her joints, but she was not going to show him that.
Lord A