a bookseller in St Paul's Churchyard, Titus Watkins, has printed up avery nonsensical book and is selling it as Strange's lost History and Practice ofEnglish Magic. My dear Henry! cried Strange. There was a thick snow lying everywhere andthe roads between here and Elanfair Waterdine were very bad. He told a servant that hewould be found asleep upon a bench in front of the fire in one day's time.
' That is very quick toimplement and, correctly done, should hold off Norrell's magic for a whilelong enough to get a message to Mr Strange. Lascelles did not care: if the young man was a coward then somuch the worse for him. Of course I told himthat London is full of thieves, but you must admit . Atleast I do not believe I ever saw you before.
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