"I'm Roma, in all the ways that matter," Jag answered, after a moment. "I'm busking for a living, living in a squat. I nick the odd wallet when I don't make enough. People like you - they usually do look down on me. And yeah, I look down on them right back, when they're priviledged arseholes like that." His thumb had been rhythmically stroking Val's hand, and he squeezed it now. "But you're not."