There was a small bath suite, served by water from the Claudian Aqueduct, which on winter evenings they kept fairly hot. Struggling or not, they had the right domestic priorities. I scraped Helena down, enjoying the delicate bits. 'Hmm, I've never yet made love to a senator's daughter in the senator's own bathhouse:'

'You're versatile; you'll come to it!'

Not then, however. Noises off announced company. As her father turned up for his pre-dinner soak, Helena threw a towel across my lap and disappeared. I sat on the side of the plunge bath trying to look more respectful than I felt.

'Leave us alone, please,' Decimus Camillus commanded the slaves who came in with him. They went, but made it clear that giving instructions was no business of the master of the house.

Decimus Camillus Verus was a friend of Vespasian's and therefore on the up at present. He was tall, with uncontrollable hair and vivid eyebrows. Relaxing in the steam, he had a slight stoop; I knew he made an effort to exercise but he preferred to lurk in his study with a pile of scrolls.

Camillus had taken to me-within limits, of course. I hated his rank, but liked him. Affection for his daughter had partly bridged the social abyss between us.

But he was in a tetchy mood. 'When are you and Helena Justina planning to make yourselves legitimate?' So much for thinking he wasn't expecting it. An extra load of pressure descended on me. It was measured in sesterces, and its exact weight was four hundred thousand of them-the cost of my joining the middle rank so that marrying me would not entirely disgrace Helena. I was making little progress in collecting so much money.

'You don't need an exact date? Quite soon, I should think,' I lied. He always saw through me.

'Her mother asked me to enquire.' From what I knew of Julia Justa, 'asked' was putting it mildly. We let the subject drop like a hot boiled egg.

'How are you, sir? What's the news?'