She was half expeg questions about where she had e from and how she had arrived, and she reparing answers; but it wasnt only imagination the nurse lacked, it was curiosity as well. Bolvangar might have been oskirts of London, and children might have been arriving all the time, for all the i Sister Clara seemed to show. Her pert little daemon trotted along at her heels just as brisk and blank as she was.
In the room they ehere was a coud a table and two chairs and a filing et, and a glass cupboard with medies and bandages, and a wash basin. As soon as they were ihe ook Lyras outer coat off and dropped it on the shiny floor.
「Off with the rest, dear,」 she said. 「Well have a quick little look to see youre nid healthy, no frostbite or sniffles, and then well find some nice clothes. Well pop you in the shower, too,」 she added, for Lyra had not ged or washed for days, and in the enveloping warmth, that was being more and more evident.
Pantalaimon fluttered in protest, but Lyra quelled him with a scowl. He settled on the couch as one by one all Lyras clothes came off, to her rese and shame; but she still had the presenind to ceal it and act dull-witted and pliant.
「And the money belt, Lizzie,」 said the nurse, and u herself with strong fingers. She went to drop it on the pile with Lyras other clothes, but stopped, feeling the edge of the alethiometer.
「Whats this?」 she said, and unbuttohe oilcloth.
「Just a sort of toy,」 said Lyra. 「Its mine.」
「Yes, we wont take it away from you, dear,」 said Sister Clara, unfolding the black velvet. 「Thats pretty, isnt it, like a pass. Into the shower with you,」 she went on, putting the alethiometer down and whisking back a coal-silk curtain in the er.
Lyra relutly slipped uhe warm water and soaped herself while Pantalaimon perched on the curtain rail. They were both scious that he mustoo lively, for the daemons of dull people were dull themselves. When she was washed and dry, the ook her temperature and looked into her eyes and ears and throat, and then measured her height and put her on some scales before writing a note on a clipboard. Then she gave Lyra some pajamas and a dressing gown. They were , and of good quality, like Tony Makarioss anorak, but again there was a sedhand air about them. Lyra felt very uneasy.
「These ent mine,」 she said.
「No, dear. Your clothes need a good wash.」
「Am I going to get my own ones back?」
「I expect so. Yes, of course.」
「What is this place?」
「Its called the Experimental Station.」
That wasnt an answer, and whereas Lyra would have poihat out and asked for more information, she didnt think Lizzie Brooks would; so she assented dumbly in the dressing and said no more.
「I want my toy back,」 she said stubbornly when she was dressed.
「Take it, dear,」 said the nurse. 「Wouldnt you rather have a nice woolly bear, though? Or a pretty doll?」
She opened a drawer where some soft toys lay like dead things. Lyra made herself stand and pretend to sider for several seds before pig out a rag doll with big vat eyes. She had never had a doll, but she knew what to do, and pressed it absently to her chest.
「What about my money belt?」 she said. 「I like to keep my toy in there.」
「Go on, then, dear,」 said Sister Clara, who was filling in a form on pink paper.
Lyra hitched up her unfamiliar skirt and tied the oilskin pouch around her waist.
「What about my coat and boots