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anything else he'd seen so far. Lyra laughed at his astonishment.
"He—but he spoke! Do all daemons talk?" Will said.
"'Course they do!" said Lyra. "Did you think he was just a pet?"
Will rubbed his hair and blinked. Then he shook his head. "No," he said, addressing Pantalaimon. "You're right, I think. They don't know "Because you can't go and talk to people in my world looking like that; they wouldn't let you near them. You got to look as if you fit in. You got to go about camouflaged. I know, see. I've been doing it for years. You better listen to me or you'll get caught, and if they finabout it.""So we better be careful how we go through," Pantalaimon said.It was strange for only a moment, talking to a mouse. Then it was no more strange than talking into a telephone, because he was really talking to Lyra. But the mouse was separate; there was something of Lyra in his expression, but something else too. It was too hard to work out, when there were so many strange things happening at once. Will tried to bring his thoughts together."You got to find some other clothes first," he said to Lyra, "before you go into my Oxford.""Why?" she said stubbornly.d