It struck me there might be a reason why Helena Justina whipped along at such a cracking pace: she did not want to be stuck in the wilderness with my… - Lindsey Davis

We marched him to the turfy shack where he lived with his parents and while the youth sulked Petronius Longus put the whole moral issue in succinct terms to them: Ollia’s father was a legionary veteran who had served in Egypt and Syria for over twenty years until he left with double pay, three medals, and a diploma that made Ollia legitimate; he now ran a boxers’ training school where he was famous for his high-minded attitude and his fighters were notorious for their loyalty to him… The old fisherman was a toothless, hapless, faithless cove you would not trust too near you with a filleting knife, but whether from fear or simple cunning he co-operated eagerly. The lad agreed to marry the girl and since Silvia would never abandon Ollia here, we decided that the fisherboy had to come back with us to Rome. His relations looked impressed by this result. We accepted it as the best we could achieve.

"Do we think Locusta is still alive?"
"If so, she would have to be about two hundred."
"Sipping at the Fountain of Youth?"
"No, I think she was killed in the Year of the Four Emperors."
"Poison?"
"Natural causes—execution."
"Did she train up apprentices?"
"Yes, but the old crafts are dying. No one wants to be bothered. These days you can't find suppliers with the expertise, however big a bribe you offer."

The plumber plodded along in silence, like a man who has learned to be polite to lunatics through dealing with civil engineers.