“The thoughts of Agrippina are her own,” replied Agrippina, imperiously.
“Thou speakest not freely, O Agrippina. Surely thou canst trust one who wishes thee and thy family well.”
“I trust no one,” she retorted, looking at him so piercingly that he lowered his eyes. “My house is an ear that gathers our conversation for a brain that is heated against us. But this morning I found a spy writing down the words I spoke to Drusus. Ah!—but I will say no more.”
“Art thou sure he was a spy?” he inquired.
“Why dost thou ask that question?” she bitterly demanded.
“Who could wish to spy upon thee?” he asked in a tone of surprise.
“That is another question, answered before asked,” she retorted.
“Confide in me, O Agrippina,” he said in a tender tone. “I revere the Julian family. Was I not in the service of thy beloved brother Caius? Did I not serve him well? The death of Drusus opens the way for one of thy sons to rule. Nero will now inherit the fortunes of the empire. I will serve him as faithfully as I do the emperor. Fear me not.”
“I do not fear thee, O Sejanus. I trust no one,” she said calmly.
“’Tis no secret that the Julian family dislikes Tiberius,” he ventured.