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Always a careful man, he smiles and makes shrewd, small movements that draw her eyes to shoddy clothes and unkempt hair. He has a shadow of stubble across his jaw and his eyes are tired, sunken and have a hollow spin to the center. He plays the part well of a weak man. But he is more, so much more and the parts he cannot hide are reduced to a feature and expression no one can place. So he smiles easily and offers a warm hand. “Leoben Conoy, a pleasure.”