"And on mine," the captain said. The two lieutenants tried to look businesslike, but they looked more as if they were falling asleep.
"And I hope I may say that this time we will have them ready for you," said the headman.
"I hope so, too," said the captain.
"But there are other levies that have not been made, which we had rather expected to be made...."
"Other levies?" The captain held out his cup and the girl poured more wine into it.
"I refer to troops, Captain," the headman said. "You levy no troops from us up here."
"You put me in rather an embarrassing position," the captain said. "You must realize that while I make no comparison to yourself, there are some people living at the outer boundaries of the Empire, people not yet wholly reconciled to Caesar's dominion, people who—to give another example—think of themselves as, say, Helvetiae first and Romans second. It is the Imperial policy in such cases not to levy troops because—"
"In other words," the girl interrupted, "you think we are not to be trusted. It quite passes my understanding why anyone should expect loyalty unless it is freely offered."
"But, my dear young lady, you are not slaves! You are given the civilizing benefits of Roman rule, and you are taxed very much less than people living in Rome itself, I can assure you of that." He felt terribly sleepy—the wine was stronger than he had thought and he found it difficult to think of the right words. He was beginning to sound to himself like a senator, a race of men he secretly despised. "Let me put it this way," he went on. "A child does not offer loyalty to his parents—it comes by nature."
"Perhaps grown people do not like to be treated as children," she said. "I don't."