When he turned to go back to the andron for more wine, he almost bumped into his father. “I hope she’s happy,” he said.

Lysistratos’ smile was wide and a little silly; he’d already drunk a good deal. “If she’s not happy now, when will she be?” he said. Sostratos dipped his head in agreement; he certainly didn’t want to spoil the day by speaking words of ill omen.

Behind him, somebody said, “Will he show the bloody cloth?”

“No, fool,” someone else answered. “It’s her second marriage, so that’d be hard to do unless her first husband was no man at all.”

Inside the bedchamber, the creaking grew louder and quicker, then suddenly stopped. A moment later, Damonax called, “That’s one!” out through the door. Everyone whooped and applauded. Before too long, the noise of lovemaking started again. A couple of people made bets about how many rounds he’d manage.

All the numbers they argued about struck Sostratos as improbably high. He looked around for Menedemos, to say as much. Of course, his cousin was as likely as not to boast that such numbers were too low, not too high. And Menedemos was as likely as anyone to make such a boast good.

But Menedemos didn’t seem to be in the courtyard. Sostratos wandered into the andron looking for him. His cousin wasn’t there, either. Shrugging, Sostratos dipped out more wine and picked up another squid with the thumb and first two fingers of his right hand. Maybe that creaking bed had inspired Menedemos to go looking for some fun of his own.

As Menedemos made his way up Rhodes ’ grid of streets, a ribbon on the garland he was wearing fell down in front of his face. It tickled his nose and made his eyes cross and reminded him he still had the garland on his head. He took it off and dropped it in a puddle.