‘They told me you were here, so I made bold to follow you,’ he said. ‘No wonder the evening has tempted you forth with its loveliness.’ She gave a faint yawn, and turned her glance languidly another way, in a manner distinctly rude and heedless. His gloomy eyes flashed, and his hand clenched for a moment in anger. ‘I have interfered with your solitary enjoyment of the scene.’ ‘I was thinking nothing of it,’ she replied carelessly. ‘Intent, perhaps, upon the thoughts of Rome, far away across the waters there—your eyes seemed fixed in that direction.’ ‘You are mistaken.’ ‘Pardon, Plautia, for having intruded myself so unpleasantly and untimely. It is all the more to be regretted, inasmuch as I sought you with the hope of your favour, having just received letters from Rome.’ ‘And how could the letters of Titus Afer possibly concern me?’ ‘Being discursive they might probably contain something to interest you, in the current affairs of the city we love so well.’ ‘Humph!’ she said drily, with her gaze still fixed down the garden. ‘You are speaking for yourself. You are growing thin and pale, Afer, and absence from the city you love so well is trying you. You are fretting after the airy height of the Esquiline, and the view of the housetops from your own portico.’ ‘You, who have left it so recently, can so far afford to mock me,’ he retorted sarcastically. ‘I will plead guilty to the charge in order not to spoil the jest.’ ‘It is not worth another word.’ ‘My correspondent tells me that Rome is wondering what is passing in the island here.’ ‘It is not surprising in the city, when one considers the power and importance of the absentees—including yourself!’ said she. ‘Of course,’ responded Afer, growing paler; ‘nor, at the same time, must such a powerful factor in the Imperial destinies as the beauty of Plautia be omitted.’ Plautia smiled and showed her pearly teeth, and the face of the knight grew whiter than ever. ‘It seems that, surprised as the poor exiles on this island were at your appearance, the citizens are even more mystified at your disappearance there. It is totally inexplicable. Rumour says you have been stolen, murdered, and so on’ (Plautia’s smile deepened as she caught the fiercely suppressed tremor of anger in his voice); ‘or translated to the companionship of the immortals, after the fashion of old,’ he continued; ‘that is even believed in. One individual, at least, is inconsolable, frantic, desperate—mad, if you like. Searching day and night—wandering sleepless like a spectre.’ ‘Only one, Afer—do they tell you of only one?’ she said ironically. ‘Only one in such sad straits,’ he responded. ‘You can guess probably who it is.’ Plautia shrugged her shoulders carelessly. ‘So may one love you and perish—O wretched example!’ he said bitterly. ‘If the miserable man could only have seen that careless shrug of your pitiless shoulders.’