I whipped into the bedroom, dangerous with annoyance. The curtain zinged along its rod. The little lost person jumped up guiltily, spilling my private notebooks onto the floor.

"Give me those!" I roared. Now I was really furious.

"You're a poet!" She was stalling for time. "Is "Aglaia the White Dove" about a woman? I suppose they are all about women, they're rather rude… I'm sorry. I was interested…"

Aglaia was a girl I knew, neither white nor the least bit like a dove. Come to that, Aglaia was not her name.

Bright eyes was still giving me that vulnerable look, but to rather worse effect. The loveliest women lose their gloss once you notice they are lying through their teeth.

"You're about to hear something considerably ruder!" I snapped. "Sosia Camillina? So why the false travel pass?"

"I was frightened!" she protested. "I didn't want to say my name, I didn't know what you wanted I let it pass; neither did I. "Who's Helena?"

"My cousin. She went to Britain. She got divorced"

"Extravagance, or mere adultery?"

"She said it was too complicated to explain."

"Ah!" I cried bitterly. I had never been married but I was an expert in divorce. "Adultery! I've heard of women being exiled to islands for immoral behaviour, but exile to Britain seems a bit bleak!"

Sosia Camillina looked curious. "How can you tell?"

"I've been there."

Because of the rebellion I sounded terse. She would have been six years old at the time. She did not remember the great British Revolt and I was not starting history lessons now.

Suddenly she demanded: "Why did your friend call you a tricky character?"

"I'm a republican. Petronius Longus thinks that's dangerous."

"Why are you a republican?"

"Because every free man should have a voice in the government of the city where he has to live.