Lucius muttered some polite and conventional terms of regret, and fell
back to join Servius Flaccus and Gabinius, who were near him.

"I invited him and he refused," he said half scornfully, half
bitterly. "That little minx, Cornelia, has been complaining of me to
him, I am sure. The gods ruin him! If he wishes to become my enemy,
he'll have good cause to fear my bite."

"You say he's from Præneste," said Gabinius, "and yet can he speak
decent Latin? Doesn't he say '_conia_' for '_ciconia_,' and
'_tammodo_' for '_tantummodo_'_?_ I wonder you invite such a boor."

"Oh! he can speak good enough Latin," said Lucius. "But I invited him
because he is rich; and it might be worth our while to make him
gamble."

"Rich!" lisped Servius Flaccus. "Rich (h)as my (h)uncle the broker?
That silly straightlac(h)ed fellow, who's (h)a C(h)ato, (h)or worse?
For shame!"

"Well," said Lucius, "old Crassus used to say that no one who couldn't
pay out of his own purse for an army was rich. But though Drusus
cannot do quite that, he has enough sesterces to make happy men of
most of us, if his fortune were mine or yours."

"(H)its (h)an (h)outrage for him to have (h)it," cried Servius
Flaccus.

"It's worse than an outrage," replied Ahenobarbus; "it's a sheer