"What, me? No, no; not that sort, anyway. What he's studying looks like medicine; too many rules, too much caution for my taste. And the other kinds of magic I've seen here are all inborn things. No, I can do a farm wife's remedy for sick chickens--which is no poor thing to have, I'll swear-- or--"

He pauses for a moment while they both circle around each other with the music; when they come back together, the hand he takes Fantine's hand with is holding a bright coral hairpin. " --the sort of thing they call magic back home."

Presto! And so on.