Gerome is dressed well, standing tall and hunched slightly in a fitted olive coat. His outfit is more reserved than most, composed solely of earthen colors. He quickly comes off as timid, mousy some would say outside the presence of Verrill and other ratfolk. The noble stammers as he reaches his hand out. “Um, Ye-Yes, it’s your - my pleasure, mademoiselle d’Orsay, ma’am.” Despite his hand outstretched, he still bows. Valentina grins, grabs his hand, and move it closer to the blind woman's.
With his hand returned, he parts his hair away from his brow. “I, um, try to help those who are in jail. I mean - wrongfully in jail, not those that committed crimes. Not that all of their crimes are rightfully wrong, I mean - I, I can’t fight laws...” Valentina nods, tapping his shoulder, reassuring him “Appeals! I help gather support for appeals. The least I can do.” He smiles weakly, nodding, re-affirming himself.