Mrs. Coulter tossed her golden head back and laughed, her gloved hand still raking the monkey's fur like an expensive mink coat, "Do you mean to imply that I am a figment of your imagination? Surely you jest."
She stopped in front of a great glass block lit by impossibly bright lights with shelves upon shelves of items inside. It only seemed like yesterday when Mrs. Coulter first came into a supermarket, and had to call upon her spyfly to see how this market 'works'. Now it seemed so regular, and the thought made her shudder.
The more she starts accepting its foreignness, the more she could be beginning to accept it.
"Well here we are." Mrs. Coulter gestured, the monkey hopped on down, "I'm sure you're bound to find what you are looking for. Don't expect it to work as you intend. I expect you would need money of course." She opened her purse and pulled out a wad of City bills, "Consider it a 'welcome' present."
She extended it, but then her eyebrows screwed together.