Slide 40
Slide 40 text
Pantalaimon
scampered
before
her,
Blowing
up
the
stairs
to
the
very
top,
where
Lyra's
bedroom
was.
Lyra
barged
open
the
door,
dragged
her
rickety
chair
to
the
window,
Blung
wide
the
casement,
and
scrambled
out.
There
was
a
lead-‐lined
stone
gutter
a
foot
wide
just
below
the
window,
and
once
she
was
standing
in
that,
she
turned
and
clambered
up
over
the
rough
tiles
until
she
stood
on
the
topmost
ridge
of
the
roof.
There
she
opened
her
mouth
and
screamed.
Pantalaimon,
who
always
became
a
bird
once
on
the
roof,
Blew
round
and
round
shrieking
rook
shrieks
with
her.
The
evening
sky
was
awash
with
peach,
apricot,
cream:
tender
little
ice-‐
cream
clouds
in
a
wide
orange
sky.