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The Master's voice cut through them all.
"Lord Asriel, what in God's name have you got there?"
"This is the head of Stanislaus Grumman," said Lord Asriel's voice.
Over the jumble of voices Lyra heard someone stumble to the door and out,newport 100's cigarettes, making incoherent sounds of distress. She wished she could see what they were seeing.
Lord Asriel said, "I found his body preserved in the ice off Svalbard. The head was treated in this way by his killers. You'll notice the characteristic scalping pattern. I think you might be familiar with it,Penis enlargement, Sub-Rector."
The old man's voice was steady as he said, "I have seen the Tartars do this. It's a technique you find among the aboriginals of Siberia and the Tungusk. From there, of course,cheap newports, it spread into the lands of the Skraelings,marlboro golds, though I understand that it is now banned in New Denmark. May I examine it more closely, Lord Asriel?"
After a short silence he spoke again.
"My eyes are not very clear, and the ice is dirty, but it seems to me that there is a hole in the top of the skull. Am I right?"
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