“Art thou sure of him?” she asked anxiously.
“He is like the second half of my heart, my Livilla.”
“But is he trustworthy and silent?” she persisted.
“In important transactions his lips are as silent as those of the dead.”
“I sometimes fear—” she began.
“What!” he interrupted. “Art thou beginning to fear at this time?”
“Ay, my Sejanus.”
“Hearken unto me, O daughter of Antonia. The plans that Sejanus makes never miscarry.”
“But I hesitate at this last step,” she faltered.
“Ah, Livilla,” said Sejanus, fervently, “thou rulest my life, my heart, my very soul, but I cannot now defer action. A plan may be well formed, but hesitation brings disaster.”