"You forget, I've plenty of friends who were in the army. The magicians might not like him, but I suspect he'll get along alright with the soldiers."

It's the truth. For all Strange loved the company of his fellow magicians, there were some big ol'nerd tendencies. Soldiers were more Lambert's speed. They were more likely to go out, have some drinks, and shoot pool than Segundus or (now here's a bizarre mental image) Norrell.

"As for the glamour, draft horses would work for Pig and Butcher, but not your 'fluffy faerie dog.'" As Strange parrots Childermass's words back at him, his accent shifts and his voice gets a little more gravelly. It's a weirdly uncanny impression that he straight up couldn't do previously.