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Chapter 4

           Hehadcomedowntoheadquartersfromsomewhereupthelineonalightengine,andhadhadjusttimetogetabathandchangehisclothes.Hewasaniceboy,andMrs.Gouldwelcomedhim.

           “It’sadelightfulsurprisetoseeyou,Mrs.Gould.I’vejustcomedown.Usualluck.Missedeverything,ofcourse.Thisshowisjustover,andIheartherehasbeenagreatdanceatDonJusteLopez’slastnight.Isittrue?”

           “Theyoungpatricians,”DecoudbegansuddenlyinhispreciseEnglish,“haveindeedbeendancingbeforetheystartedofftothewarwiththeGreatPompey.”

           YoungScarfestared,astounded.“Youhaven’tmetbefore,”Mrs.Gouldintervened.“Mr.DecoudMr.Scarfe.”

           “Ah!ButwearenotgoingtoPharsalia,”protestedDonJose,withnervoushaste,alsoinEnglish.“Youshouldnotjestlikethis,Martin.”

           Antonia’sbreastroseandfellwithadeeperbreath.Theyoungengineerwasutterlyinthedark.“Greatwhat?”hemuttered,vaguely.

           “Luckily,MonteroisnotaCaesar,”Decoudcontinued.“NotthetwoMonterosputtogetherwouldmakeadecentparodyofaCaesar.”Hecrossedhisarmsonhisbreast,lookingatSenorAvellanos,whohadreturnedtohisimmobility.“Itisonlyyou,DonJose,whoareagenuineoldRomanvirRomanuseloquentandinflexible.”

           SincehehadheardthenameofMonteropronounced,youngScarfehadbeeneagertoexpresshissimplefeelings.

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