So when the girl said, 'Who are you?' everyone understood at
once, and Anthea replied--

'We are children--just like you. Don't be frightened. Won't you
show us where you live?'

Jane put her face right into the Psammead's basket, and burrowed
her mouth into its fur to whisper--

'Is it safe? Won't they eat us? Are they cannibals?'

The Psammead shrugged its fur.

'Don't make your voice buzz like that, it tickles my ears,' it
said rather crossly. 'You can always get back to Regent's Park
in time if you keep fast hold of the charm,' it said.

The strange girl was trembling with fright.

Anthea had a bangle on her arm. It was a sevenpenny-halfpenny
trumpery thing that pretended to be silver; it had a glass heart
of turquoise blue hanging from it, and it was the gift of the
maid-of-all-work at the Fitzroy Street house. 'Here,' said
Anthea, 'this is for you. That is to show we will not hurt you.
And if you take it I shall know that you won't hurt us.'

The girl held out her hand. Anthea slid the bangle over it, and
the girl's face lighted up with the joy of possession.