Titus had come down to us at the door, also putting his brother to the test: “The aedile has left his lady a curious legacy. Now this fortune-hunter trails after her everywhere, keeping one eye on her interests at all turns…”

Domitian gave no further sign of nerves. He kissed Helena’s hand, with the half-closed gaze of a very young man who imagines he is brilliant in bed. She stared at him stonily. Titus intervened, with a smoothness I envied, kissing her cheek like a relative as we reached the door. I let him. If she wanted, she was perfectly capable of stopping him herself.

I hoped she realized these two came from an old-fashioned Sabine family. Stripped of their purple, they were provincial and ordinary: close with their money, ruled by their women, and obsessed with work. They both had paunches already, and neither of them was as tall as me.

I had to leave Helena alone while I found someone to roust out her chair. The empty atrium seemed so vast I reeled, trying to take it in, but as soon as I returned I spotted her, a shaft of deep sea green sitting on a fountain edge. Overshadowed by the hundred-foot-high statue of Nero as the Sun God, she looked anxious and shy.

A man in a senator’s wide purple stripes was addressing her; the type who leans back with his gut heaving over his belt. Her replies were abrupt. Her glance settled on me gratefully as I skipped across.

“Where else should I look for a naiad but in front of a water-splash? There’s a delay finding our chair but it will come—”

I planted myself alongside. Sir-in-the-stripes looked annoyed; I cheered up. She would not introduce us. After he took his leave I noticed her relax.

“Friend of yours?”

“No. Oddly enough, I’m a friend of his wife.”

“Well, just tip me a nod if you want me to disappear.”

“Oh thanks!” she stormed bleakly.

I sat down beside her on the fountain bowl, musing, “Funny thing, divorce. Seems to hang a sign saying “vulnerable” round a woman’s neck.”

We hit one of those rare moments when she allowed me to see her under private strain.

“Is this common? I was starting to feel I must be odd,” I saw her chair coming, so merely smiled in reply. “Didius Falco, will you see me safe to the house?”

“Good gods, yes! This is Rome at night. Will your chair take me and my bag of gold?”

Dining out with the Caesars had given me extravagant ideas. Still she nodded, then coolly informed the bearers they were taking me as well.

We climbed aboard, both twisting diagonally to avoid bumping knees. The bearers set off, down the north side of the Palatine, going slowly because of the extra weight. It was not quite dark.