It's true, Childermass is a rather masterful witch, despite the low level of his influence. He tries to keep it that way -- better not alerting Norrell to the idea that his ability might in fact rival the man's himself. So Childermass is not accustomed to being perceived as such. For a moment he is uncertain if that is what this other is getting at. After all, he did go straight into his pocket for his cards. Probably the most powerful item he's got on him, and yet equally utterly mundane in the wrong hands.

So Childermass lofts an eyebrow at this other, an other in more ways in one, from the flavor of the magic coming off of him as it rolls around in Childermass' head, and attempts to get a better sense of him. Who he is, what he might have wanted from him. "I could ask you then," he rumbles. "What did possess you, to reach into my pocket and take hold of my cards? A very odd thing to do, with no reason at all, and thus it is as you say. You must have had one."