Concordia (Shabby): I feel compelled to note that you’re turning lead into gold again.
Anataeus (Shabby): You noticed. Yes, it seems the world is determined to taunt me.
Clara: You’re an alchemist, after all.
Anataeus (Shabby): So I’ve been informed.
Clara: Is this a matter of some sensitivity to him?
Concordia (Shabby): Something about how he doesn’t like being typecast, I believe.
Anataeus (Shabby): Lead into gold may as well be my parlor trick.
Clara: At least this time you’re doing it in the service of your own ends.

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Concordia (Shabby): This is altogether a greater quantity of gold than any I’ve seen in my life.
Anataeus (Shabby): We need to set aside some for Nils’ payment. The rest we’ll use for Clara’s outfit.
Clara: You’re going to use that gold to adorn me?
Clara: Please don’t suggest I don plated armor or something of the like.
Concordia (Shabby): No, I have a much better idea. You’ll be the talk of the city for a generation.
Clara: You say that as though there won’t be anything else unusual about this ball.
Concordia (Shabby): Right. Sometimes I forget about the rest of our plan.