He yielded with a nervous gesture, that implored her not to make an
indiscretion. A subprefect, in the nature of his calling, had too many
enemies to relish repetition in the palace precincts of a threat from
Marcia, however baseless it might be. And besides, it might be
something serious that almost had escaped her lips. Untrue or true, it
would be known all over the palace in an hour; within the day all Rome
would know of it. There were two slaves by the front door, two more on
the last step of the stairs.

"I will come, of course," he said. "I am delighted. I am honored. I
am fortunate!"

She nodded. She sent one of her own slaves to order his private litter
brought, while Livius attempted to look comfortable, cudgeling his
brains to know what mischief she had found out. It was nothing unusual
that his litter should follow hers through the streets of Rome; in
fact, it was an honor coveted by all officials of the palace, that fell
to his share rather frequently because of his distinguished air of a
latter-day man of the world and his intimate knowledge of everybody's
business and ancestry. He was often ordered to go with her at a moment's
notice. But this was the first time she had refused to say where they
were going, or why, and there was a hint of malice in her smile that
made his blood run cold. He was a connoisseur of malice.

Marcia leaned on his arm as she went down the steps to her litter. She
permitted him to help her in. But then, while her companion was
following through the silken curtains, she leaned out at the farther
side and whispered to the nearest eunuch. Livius, climbing into his own
gilt vehicle and lifted shoulder-high by eight Numidians, became aware