She was much younger than he, barely twenty, and the cold had imparted a pretty blush to her creamy throat and cheeks, and a sparkle to her large grey eyes. She embraced her husband, arching against him like a cat, and then made an almost equal fuss of Cicero, flattering him for his speeches and even a volume of his poetry she claimed to have read. It occurred to me that she was drunk. Caesar regarded her with amusement.

'Mama wants to see you,' he said, at which she pouted like a girl. 'Well, go on,' he commanded, 'don't make a sour face. You know what she's like,' and he gave her a pat on her rear to send her on her way.

'So many women, Caesar,' observed Cicero drily. 'Where will they emerge from next?'

Caesar laughed. 'I fear you'll take away a bad impression of me.'

'My impression is quite unchanged, I assure you.'

'So, then: do we have a bargain?'

'It depends on what your bill contains. All we have so far are election slogans. “Land for the landless.” “Food for the hungry.” I'll need a few more details than that. And also perhaps some concessions.' But Caesar did not respond. His expression was blank. After a while the silence became embarrassing, and it was Cicero who ended it by grunting and turning aside. 'Well, it's getting dark,' he said to me. 'We should go.'

'So soon? You'll take no refreshment? Then let me show you out.' Caesar was entirely affable: his manners were always impeccable, even when he was condemning a man to death. 'Think of it,' he continued, as he led us down the shabby passage. 'If you join us, how easy your term of office will be. This time next year your consulship will be over. You'll leave Rome. Live in a governor's palace. Make enough money in Macedonia to set you up for life. Come home. Buy a house on the Bay of Naples. Study philosophy. Write your memoirs. Whereas-'

The doorkeeper stepped forward to help Cicero on with his cloak, but Cicero waved him away and turned on Caesar. 'Whereas? Whereas what? If I don't join you? What then?'