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... ke an old painter carelessly scattering a palette, dyeing the horizon into a misty blend of gray-blue and dark purple. The rain was like a woven fabric, quietly weaving a thin veil that covered the entire city. The rain, though light, was enough to make the air moist and heavy, intertwined with London’s peculiar haze, forming an indescribable, almost tangible mist.
"This terrible weather."
Lady Yelena opened an umbrella and handed another one to the little fellow. Raindrops slid ...
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