The guard from the gatehouse had come in with Father chanel bags sale MacPhail and was shining a torch into the corners of the room and under the bed. The President was slightly disconcerted: Mrs. Coulter's eyes were heavy with sleep, and she could hardly see in the glare from the corridor light. It was obvious that she hadn't left her bed.
     "You have an accomplice," he said. "Someone has attacked a guest of the College. Who is it? Who came here with you? chanel bags Where is he?"
     "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. And what's this... ?"
     Her hand, which she'd put down to help herself sit up, had found the locket on the pillow. She stopped, picked it up, and looked at the President with wide-open sleepy eyes, and Lord Roke saw a superb piece of acting as she said, puzzled, "But this is my... what's it doing here? Father MacPhail, who's chanel bags been in here? Someone has taken this from around my neck. And, where is Lyra's hair? There was a lock of my child's hair in here. Who's taken it? Why? What's going on?"
     And now she was standing, her hair disordered, passion in her voice, plainly just as bewildered as the President himself.
     Father MacPhail took a step backward and put his hand to his head.
     "Someone else must have come with you. chanel handbags There must he an accomplice," he said, his voice rasping at the air. "Where is he hiding?"
     "I have no accomplice," she said angrily. "If there's an invisible assassin in this place, I can only imagine it's the Devil himself. I dare say he feels quite at home."
     Father MacPhail said to the guard, "Take her to the cellars. Put her in chains. I know just what we can do with this chanel bags woman; I should have thought of it as soon as she appeared."
     She looked wildly around and met Lord Roke's eyes for a fraction of a second, glittering in the darkness near the ceiling. He caught her expression at once and understood exactly what she meant him to do.
     The cataract of Saint-Jean-les-Eaux plunged between pinnacles of rock at the eastern end of a spur of the Alps, and the generating station ugg boots clearance clung to the side of the mountain above it. It was a wild region, a bleak and battered wilderness, and no one would have built anything there at all had it not been for the promise of driving great anbaric generators with the power of the thousands of tons of water that roared through the gorge.