"Oh --" Norrell says, turning and regarding her with hesitance. He's a little thrown by her simply going directly into his folders without asking or being prompted, but too awkward in the face of her apparent bad mood to properly protest. "That can wait," he offers somewhat uncertainly. The folders themselves contain letters of appeal, fliers and small leaflets variously. One seems to be largely information on a few locations and some menu and drinks prices. Norrell is of course planning a dinner to coax people.

He pours out some hot water for her tea and begins to fuss with the tin of scones in turn.