Everyone, it seemed, was delighted with what Mr Norrell had done. (Here he delved about in a pile of papers upon a little table at his elbow tofetch out a list. Lamps were still lit; goods were lying heaped or scattered over thecounters - silks, tobacco, sheet-music; fires were still burning in the hearthsbut their flames were frozen. Shelooked at him doubtfully.
I am addressed - onthe rare occasions when any one speaks to me at all - quite indiscriminately as MrStrange or Mr Norrell. Ah, there you are! he cried. Oh! It is not the tears that make it rare - I have bottles full of those - itis the skill to mix the colour. The person whom Mr Prideaux found was an Assistant Commissary withbusiness in Torres Vedras, a town four or five miles further on than Headquarters.
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