Sextus must have been listening, he appeared so instantly. He stood
with folded arms confronting them, his weathered face in sunlight.
Pigment was not needed to produce the healthy bronze hue of his skin;
his curly hair, bound by a fillet, was unruly from the outdoor life he
had been leading; the strong sinews of his arms and legs belied the ease
of his pretended calling and the starry cloak he wore was laughable in
its failure to disguise the man of action. He saluted the three women
with a gesture of the raised right hand that no man unaccustomed to the
use of arms could imitate, then turning slightly toward Livius,
acknowledged his nod with a humorous grin.

"So we meet again, Bultius Livius."

"Again?" asked Marcia.

"Why yes, I met him in the house of Pertinax. It is three days since we
spoke together. Three, or is it four, Livius? I have been busy. I
forget."

"Can Livius have lied?" asked Marcia. She seemed to be enjoying the
entertainment.

Livius threw caution to the winds.

"Is this a tribunal?" he demanded. "If so, of what am I accused?" He
tried to speak indignantly, but something caught in his throat. The
cough became a sob and in a moment he was half-hysterical. "By
Hercules, what judges! What a witness! Is he a two-headed witness who
shall swear my life away? I understand you, Marcia!"