Jenny: Greetings

"I sincerely hope not," Master Lucius replied dryly. He left it at that for the moment. He found himself looking at a girl only a little older than the Guttersnipe, thin and possibly badly used. Ill, homesick, stubborn but scared. With kinder usage and good food she would probably shape up and put some form to her scrawny hips, but he doubted there was anything that could be done for the sickness of body and for home.

A sudden coughing fit took him. The Guttersnipe flew from the girl's side to fetch him a glass of water. It was another of those dry, ragged coughs, unproductive and unavoidable. In his own ears he sounded like a horse with bad lungs. So much for that. He took the glass and drank, turning to observe the girl again as he did so.

"Domitia, you say." He handed the glass back. A tidy, sensible name. He had no doubt it was not her real one. "What can you do, Domitia?"