On a table in the centre ofthe room stood a wide and shallow silver bowl, filled with water. I hope you are not unwell. It is as if some evilfortune is determined to torment me, holding out great prizes in front of me,only to snatch them away again. He spoke with such calm that Mr Norrell - who was rather expecting to beblasted with a bolt of magic at any moment - looked round to see if someoneelse was in the room.
Its small country windows more useful for keeping out the coldthan letting in the light - had all been made large and regular; a pillaredporti He looked up whenMr Norrell entered the room. It was black so black that it mighthave been composed of the surrounding darkness. Yet he never became sentimentally attached to his possessions.
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