Upon one of thetables in the library there stood a great silver dish, which was sometimes fullof water. Her arms lay in her lap, so extravagantly spottedwith brown that they were like two fish. While the draymen argued about which of them was toblame, some passers-by observed that sherry-wine was leaking from one of thebarrels. But Mr Norrell had read a greatmany books in which were described the dealings of other English magicianswith persons of this race and he knew very well how deceitful they could be.
This seemed rather less respectable. The hours passed slowly. Magic had seemed little more than an esotericbranch of history, an amusement for rich, idle gentlemen; and Henry stillsomehow contrived to regard it in that light. He had neverseen her or spoken to her.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.