She rose, disengaged her hand from Marius's with a very special smile for him, and put the hand upon Aelia's shoulder. "Come, my dear," she said, "we'll go down to the nursery." Aelia got up. So did Aurelia. The three men did not, though their conversation ceased until the women had gone from the room. A gesture from Marius sent the servants scurrying to clear the women's chairs from the dining room after which they too vanished. Now only the three couches remained, forming a U; to make conversation easier, Sulla shifted from where he had lain beside Marius to the vacant couch facing Rutilius Rufus. Both of them were then able to see Marius as well as they could each other. "So Piggle-wiggle is to come home at last," said Lucius Cornelius Sulla when he was sure his detested second wife was out of earshot. Marius shifted restlessly on the middle couch, frowning, but less direfully than of yore, for the lingering paralysis gave the left half of the grimace a mournful quality. “What do you want to hear from me by way of answer, Lucius Cornelius?" Marius asked finally. Sulla laughed shortly. "Why should I want anything but an honest answer? Though, you know, I did not phrase what I said as a question, Gaius Marius." "I realize that. But it required an answer nonetheless." "True," said Sulla. "All right, I'll rephrase it. How do you feel about Piggle-wiggle's being recalled from exile?" "Well, I'm not singing paeans of joy," said Marius, and gave Sulla a piercing glance. "Are you?" They have drifted subtly apart, thought Publius Rutilius Rufus, reclining on the second couch. Three years ago or even two years ago they could not have had such a tensely wary conversation. What happened? And whose fault is it? "Yes and no, Gaius Marius." Sulla stared down into his winecup.