Cao Yong Day of Love

Cao Yong Day of LoveCao Yong cao yong Red UmbrellaDiego Rivera View of Toledo
sparked under their anbaric wires. There were rules for crossing London streets, but she took no notice, and when anyone shouted, she fled.
It was a fine thing to be free again. She knew that Pantalaimon, padding on wildcat paws beside her, felt the same joy talking to the two or three customers.
It was tempting. Lyra had been walking for an hour now, and it was cold and damp. With Pantalaimon a sparrow, she went up to the counter and reached up to gain the owner's attention.
"Cup of C and a ham sandwich, please," she said.
"You're out late, my dear," said a gentleman in a top hat and white as she did to be in the open air, even if it was murky London air laden with fumes and soot and clangorous with noise. Sometime soon they'd have to think over the meaning of what they'd heard in Mrs. Coulter's flat, but not yet. And sometime eventually they'd have to find a place to sleep.At a crossroads near the corner of a big department store whose windows shone brilliantly over the wet pavement, there was a coffee stall: a little hut on wheels with a counter under the wooden flap that swung up like an awning. Yellow light glowed inside, and the fragrance drifted out. The white-coated owner was leaning on the counter