Graecina was accompanied by her own young children, of whom there were two, a shy little boy and a girl who whimpered ceaselessly, though who could blame her? Both were only infants; they would never see their father again and must be terrified of the change that would devastate their once-settled lives. They found the walk to the necropolis too long and standing for several hours at the tomb tired them even more.

Present when we left the house was a large number of neighbourhood associates of Polycarpus, people in trade whom he had known and dealt with in the course of his work. They may not have fitted Graecina’s definition of ‘nice people’, but they all spoke of her husband with respect. I was there, shadowed by Dromo. Of the Aviola household, there was no time for anyone to return from Campania, so we were only graced by Myla, who attached herself to the procession as it was leaving, possibly unasked. She walked at the back, beside Graecina’s slave, Cosmus.

As we made our way, under cover of the racket from a couple of hired musicians, I took the opportunity to ask Dromo how he had managed when I told him to make friends with Cosmus.

‘No use. He wouldn’t have anything to do with me. He’s peculiar.’

I scoffed that that could be said about many people.

‘Who? You mean me?’ demanded Dromo, his field of vision as always confined to his own world.

‘No, the sun does not revolve around you, Dromo. I meant generally, there are a lot of odd people.’

I refrained from saying that rebuffing Dromo could be seen as sensible. Even so, Dromo gave me a sideways glance, as if by now he reckoned he could work out what I was thinking.

When he believed I was looking the other way, he turned around and made a rude gesture at Cosmus. Cosmus gave back as good as he got. Myla aimed a smack at Cosmus; I would have done the same to Dromo, but he had sidled out of reach. There were about two years between those boys, but otherwise I could see little difference.

No, that was wrong. I noticed, with interest, my attitude had altered. In an insidious way, through my dealings with Dromo he had become ‘mine’. Both young slaves behaved equally badly, but I felt more lenient towards him. I didn’t even own him.

This must have been how the idea developed that slaves should be considered part of a family.