"You have not brought Livius because you think he loves me!" she said,
laughing. "Nor have you come, my Marcia, for nothing, since you might
have sent for me and saved yourself trouble. I anticipate intrigue!
What plot have you discovered now? Is Pertinax its victim? You can
always interest me if you talk of Pertinax."

"We will talk of Livius," said Marcia.

Leaning on his elbows, Livius glared at Caia Poppeia, Marcia's
companion. He coughed, to draw attention to her, but Marcia refused to
take the hint. "Livius has information for us," she remarked.

Livius rose from the couch and came and stood before her, knitting his
fingers together behind his back, compelling himself to smile. His
pallor made the hastily applied cosmetics look ridiculous.

"Marcia," he said, "you make it obvious that you suspect me of some
indiscretion."

"Never!" she retorted, mocking. "You indiscreet? Who would believe it?
Give us an example of discretion; you are Paris in the presence of
three goddesses. Select your destiny!"

He smiled, attempted to regain his normal air of tolerant importance--
glanced about him--saw the sunlight making iridescent pools of fire
within a crystal ball set on the fountain's edge--took up the ball and
brought it to her, holding it in both hands.