It's hard for him to read people at the best of times, and this one is a very closed book. But Lemm is starting to pick up little signs already, now that he's looking for them and applying that keen eye normally reserved for particularly detailed stonecarvings.

He takes the cloth and his thumb rubs at the fabric, worries at the frayed hole.

"...I'm not fond of repeating myself," he says a little less sternly this time, "but I'll make it clear: my shop is not a place for moping, if that's what you're doing. Up!" Lemm turns, and baps their shoulder harmlessly with the cloth as he steps towards the door, stands beside it, holds it open. "Up and out. Show that to the City, not my seal collection."