[He pauses there, fixing Silver with some penetrating look. There's a crookedness to his own expression - he can feel it in the line of his own mouth, the slight cock of his own head. But after a moment, he is either satisfied (unlikely) or concedes that he has no idea what exactly it is he's expecting to find in the figure John paints there. He scratches out a quick note on the paper under hand, and fetches the ruler back to him.]
That's fair. [He's not wrong.] If you find there's something more I can do, let me know.
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That's fair. [He's not wrong.] If you find there's something more I can do, let me know.
[Good enough.]