Leroy Neiman Ryder CupUnknown Artist Mary Magdalene in the DesertLeroy Neiman World Class Skier
you talked to me, Farder Coram, and I lost it. See, it's just floating any old where."
"Yes, I see that. I'm sorry, Lyra. You tired now? D'you want to stop?"
"No, I don't," she said, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright. She had all the signs of fretful overexcitement, and, rusty and cobwebbed with pipework, beside a refinery where a thick smear of smoke ascended reluctantly to join the clouds.
"Where are we?" said Lyra. "Can I go outside just for a bit, Farder Coram?"
"This is Colby water," he said. "The estuary of the river Cole. When we reach the town, we'll tie up by the Smoke-market and go on foot to the docks. We'll be it was made worse by her long confinement in this stuffy cabin.He looked out of the window. It was nearly dark, and they were traveling along the last stretch of inland water before reaching the coast. Wide brown scummed expanses of an estuary extended under a dreary sky to a distant group of coal-spirit tanks