When Gannon presented the letter from Sejanus, she was languidly reclining upon a cushioned couch in a small but beautifully furnished room. As she lay there, the graceful lines of her figure were revealed through the folds of a loose tunica, or dress, held closely to her figure by bands of light-blue silk. There was a certain fervor in her languid movement that made Gannon retreat a few steps; for her fingers had touched his, and slightly pressed them. Her whole form seemed to palpitate under the voluptuous impulse of an evil thought. After she had read the letter, she looked at Gannon and softly said: “Why standest thou so far away? What fearest thou?”
“I fear nothing,” Gannon timidly replied, with a slight smile; “but I know not the etiquette required before great people, my lady.”
“For thee there is nothing to learn. Be natural,” said Livilla. She turned her handsome face towards Gannon. She smiled, and showed her pretty teeth as she added, “Come hither.”
Gannon, somewhat embarrassed, bashfully approached. “Has no one told thee that thou art handsome?” she asked.
“Why should they?” shyly asked Gannon.
“Because ’tis true. Thine eyes and mouth are too handsome for a lad. They would make the fairest woman in Rome proud. Hast thou a brother?”
“Nay, my lady. I have only a sister.”
“Thy parents are living?”
“Ay, my lady.”
“What is the name of thy sister?”