He called on the disreputable pair, deliberately choosing a time close to noon, when the rest of Decimus’ hangers-on and barrack-servants would have wandered off to have a meal, or to go to work, or the games, or whatever such creatures did. He was hoping to speak to Corinna alone, and he was not disappointed. When her hulking 'master' disappeared from the inadequate receiving room for some reason, he spotted the girl hovering just outside. 'Mary.' He called the wretched girl by her baptismal name, knowing she would feel compelled to put her head around the door-curtain. Predictably, she did. 'Yes, Sir?' 'Do not stand on the threshold, girl—' 'My master does not wish me to be alone with any man.' At her impudence, words failed Silvinus Cato. He sat up straight on his hard, uncomfortable chair and glowered at her properly. She was decked out in a pale linen far too fine for any slave, with her hair tied with a pink ribbon and her feet shod in be-jeweled sandals.
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