Jeanne: The Guttersnipe

Druce snorted. "I have no girl yet," he said, half regretfully, "so I cannot say as I fully sympathize with you, but I'm not adverse to hearing you leave the realms of sanity. It is rather refreshing when your medical mind is confounded." He grinned, clasping his hands together between his knees. "She is worth loving, the Guttersnipe is. Odd, perhaps - or, as you say, uncanny - but she has a good heart; she was meant for you. Do you remember, in the games we used to play, that I was always the villain and you the hero? So, I think that is how she thinks of you. I hope," he added, snorting again, "that she does not still think of me as a villain, though. No, she's a good one, the Guttersnipe is."

He sighed, putting his elbows on his knees and tilting his chin. "Here we have gone from speaking of war and battles and sovereignty, to talking of women - who may well defy all of those."

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