Thomas Kinkade Bridge of Hope

Thomas Kinkade Bridge of HopeEdward Hopper SummertimeEdward Hopper Night WindowsEdward Hopper Lighthouse Hill
Come in quickly," he said. "It's warm and comfortable. Don't stand out in the cold. What is your name ?"
His voice was an English one, without any accent Lyra could name. He sounded like the sort of people she had met at Mrs. , Lyra found herself sweltering in what seemed unbearable heat, and had to pull open her furs and push back her hood.
They were in a space about eight feet square, with corridors to the right and left, and in front of her the sort of reception desk you might see in a hospital. Everything was brilliantly lit, with the glint of shiny white surfaces and stainless steel. There was the smell of food Coulter's: smart and educated and important."Lizzie Brooks," she said."Come in, Lizzie. We'll look after you here, don't worry."He was colder than she was, even though she'd been outside for far longer; he was impatient to be in the warm again. She decided to play slow and dim-witted and reluctant, and dragged her feet as she stepped over the high threshold into the building.There were two doors, with a wide space between them so that not too much warm air escaped. Once they were through the inner doorway