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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. "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 dressedWhen 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 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."
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