“Oh, Longinus, please, not now,” she pleaded, her voice tense, her tone entreating. “Please don’t leave me now.”
For a moment he stood above her, silent, and then, bending down quickly, he lifted her from the couch and started toward the still open bedroom door. He was past the fountain when a sudden, loud knocking at the entrance doors shattered the silence.
“Oh, Longinus, put me down!” She swung her legs to the floor. “Bona Dea, who could be coming here at this hour! Of all the damnable luck!” She stared in dismay at her disarrayed and transparent robe. “By all the gods, I can’t go into the atrium dressed like this! Longinus, will you go? Tullia’s probably sound asleep.” With that, Claudia darted into the bedroom, while the pounding grew ever louder and more insistent.
Longinus started toward the door, but before he could reach it, Tullia had appeared from the corridor. She quickly opened the door, then backed away as the robust soldier stepped inside.
“I am seeking the Centurion Longinus. I was told ... ah, there you are!” he cried.
“Cornelius! What are you doing here?”
“Longinus! By Jove! I’ve been searching all Rome for you.”
“But I thought you were still in Palestine.”
“And I thought you were still in Germania!”—Cornelius laughed—“until today.”
“Come, sit down,” Longinus said. “When did you get back?”