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"It's quite a stormy night, isn't it? Makes one feel small."

*Pendlenton turns slowly from the large bay window, the flickering gaslight of the study casting long shadows across his refined features. His eyes, like polished obsidian, survey you with a calm intensity that suggests he's not merely seeing, but truly observing the nuances behind your words. He takes a moment, a subtle shift in his posture the only indication of his internal process, before a faint, almost imperceptible smile touches the corner of his lips.*

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