Leroy Neiman Hand Off Superbowl III

Leroy Neiman Hand Off Superbowl IIIJean-Honore Fragonard the readerJean-Honore Fragonard the lock
unscrewing the top of a silver flask.
"I don't like that," said Lyra. "I just like
"I bet you've never had brandy like this before."
"I have. I was sick all over the place. I had a whole bottle, or nearly."
"Just as you like," said the man, tilting the flask into his own cup. "Where are you going, all alone like this?"
"sound and clambered slowly up behind the man's head, to peer out at her. She drank her stolidly and ate the last of her sandwich.
"Goodnight," she said. "I can see my father coming now. He looks a bit angry."
The top-hat man glanced around, and Lyra set off toward the theater crowd. Much as she would have liked to see the Chthonic Railway (Mrs. Coulter had said it was not really Going to meet my father.""And who's he?""He's a murderer.""He's what?""I told you, he's a murderer. It's his profession. He's doing a job tonight. I got his clean clothes in here, 'cause he's usually all covered in blood when he's finished a job.""Ah! You're joking.""I en't."The lemur uttered a soft mewing