Adults were looking down at her： the man who'd brought her in； another man wearing a white coat； a woman in a nurse's uniform。
〃English；〃 the first man was saying。 〃Traders； apparently。〃
〃Usual hunters？ Usual story？〃
〃Same tribe； as far as I could tell。 Sister Clara； could you take little； umm； and see to her？〃
〃Certainly； Doctor。 e with me； dear；〃 said the nurse； and Lyra obediently followed。
They went along a short corridor with doors on the right and a canteen on the left； from which came a clatter of knives and forks； and voices； and more cooking smells。 The nurse was about as old as Mrs。 Coulter； Lyra guessed； with a brisk； blank； sensible air； she would be able to stitch a wound or change a bandage； but never to tell a story。 Her daemon （and Lyra had a moment of strange chill when she noticed） was a little white trotting dog （and after a moment she had no idea why it had chilled her）。
〃What's your name； dear？〃 said the nurse； opening a heavy door。 〃Lizzie。〃
〃Just Lizzie？〃
〃Lizzie Brooks。〃
〃And how old are you？〃
〃Eleven。〃
Lyra had been told that she was small for her age； whatever that meant。 It had never affected her sense of her own importance； but she realized that she could use the fact now to make Lizzie shy and nervous and insignificant； and shrank a little as she went into the room。
She was half expecting questions about where she had e from and how she had arrived； and she was preparing answers； but it wasn't only imagination the nurse lacked； it was curiosity as well。 Bolvangar might have been on the outskirts of London； and children might have been arriving all the time； for all the interest Sister Clara seemed to show。 Her pert neat little daemon trotted along at her heels just as brisk and blank as she was。
In the room they entered there was a couch and a table and two chairs and a filing cabinet； and a glass cupboard with medicines and bandages； and a wash basin。 As soon as they were inside； the nurse took Lyra's outer coat off and dropped it on the shiny floor。
〃Off with the rest； dear；〃 she said。 〃We'll have a quick little look to see you're nice and healthy； no frostbite or sniffles； and then we'll find some nice clean clothes。 We'll pop you in the shower； too；〃 she added； for Lyra had not changed 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 Lyra's clothes came off； to her resentment and shame； but she still had the presence of mind to conceal it and act dull…witted and pliant。
〃And the money belt； Lizzie；〃 said the nurse； and untied it herself with strong fingers。 She went to drop it on the pile with Lyra's other clothes； but stopped； feeling the edge of the alethiometer。
〃What's this？〃 she said； and unbuttoned the oilcloth。
〃Just a sort of toy；〃 said Lyra。 〃It's mine。〃
〃Yes； we won't take it away from you； dear；〃 said Sister Clara； unfolding the black velvet。 〃That's pretty； isn't 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 corner。
Lyra reluctantly slipped under the warm water and soaped herself while Pantalaimon perched on the curtain rail。 They were both conscious that he mustn't be too lively； for the daemons of dull people were dull themselves。 When she was washed and dry； the nurse took 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 clean； and of good quality； like Tony Makarios's anorak； but again there was a secondhand air about them。 Lyra felt very uneasy。
〃These en't 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？〃
〃It's called the Experimental Station。〃
That wasn't an answer； and whereas Lyra would have pointed that out and asked for more information； she didn't 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。 〃Wouldn't 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 consider for several seconds before picking out a rag doll with big vacant 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？〃 she said。 〃And my mittens and things？〃
〃We'll have them cleaned for you；〃 said the nurse automatically。
Then a telephone buzzed； and while the nurse answered it； Lyra stooped quickly to recover the other tin； the one containing the spy…fly； and put it in the pouch with the alethiometer。
〃e along； Lizzie；〃 said the nurse； putting the receiver down。 〃We'll go and find you something to eat。 I expect you're hungry。〃
She followed Sister Clara to the canteen； where a dozen round white tables were covered in crumbs and the sticky rings where drinks had been carelessly put down。 Dirty plates and cutlery were stacked on a steel trolley。 There were no windows； so to give an illusion of light and space one wall was covered in a huge photogram showing a tropical beach； with bright blue sky and white sand and coconut palms。
The man who had brought her in was collecting a tray from a serving hatch。
〃Eat up；〃 he said。
There was no need to starve； so she ate the stew and mashed potatoes with relish。 There was a bowl of tinned peaches and ice cream to follow。 As she ate； the man and the nurse talked quietly at another table； and when she had finished； the nurse brought her a glass of warm milk and took the tray away。
The man came to sit down opposite。 His daemon； the marmot； was not blank and incurious as the nurse's dog had been； but sat politely on his shoulder watching and listening。
〃Now； Lizzie；〃 he said。 〃Have you eaten enough？〃
〃Yes； thank you。〃
〃I'd like you to tell me where you e from。 Can you do that？〃
〃London；〃 she said。
〃And what are you doing so far north？〃
〃With my father；〃 she mumbled。 She kept her eyes down； avoiding the gaze of the marmot； and trying to look as if she was on the verge of tears。
〃With your father？ I see。 And what's he doing in this part of the world？〃
〃Trading。 We e with a load of New Danish smokeleaf and we was buying furs。〃
〃And was your father by himself？〃
〃No。 There was my uncles and all； and some other men；〃 she said vaguely； not knowing what the Samoyed hunter had told him。
〃Why did he bring you on a journey like this； Lizzie？〃
〃 'Cause two years ago he brung my brother and he says he'll bring me next； only he never。 So I kept asking him； and then he did。〃
〃And how old are you？〃
〃Eleven。〃
〃Good； good。 Well； Lizzie； you're a lucky little girl。 Those huntsmen who found you brought you to the best place you could be。〃
〃They never found me；〃 she said doubtfully。 〃There was a fight。 There was lots of 'em and they had arrows 。 。 。 。〃
〃Oh； I don't think so。 I think you must have wandered away from your father's party and got lost。 Those huntsmen found you on your own and brought you straight here。 That's what happened； Lizzie。〃
〃I saw a fight；〃 she said。 〃They was shooting arrows and that 。 。 。 。I want my dad；〃 she said more loudly； and felt herself beginning to cry。
〃Well； you're quite safe here until he es；〃 said the doctor。
〃But I saw them shooting arrows！〃
〃Ah； you thought you did。 That often happens in the intense cold； Lizzie。 You fall asleep and have bad dreams and you can't remember what's true and what isn't。 That wasn't a