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[Kafkonia]

Llewellyn blinks for a moment, as though registering something he hadn't noticed before. "Forgive me," he says. "I spoke not of your scars, but of the way in which you weigh us with your sight." He plucks the orange peel from the table and places it in a small pouch which he returns to his side. "I assure you, I intended no disrespect."