"Sit a little farther off," said Sabina pressing her jewelled right-hand
on her ear, as if she were suffering a pain in it. The prefect colored
slightly, but he obeyed the desire of Caesar's wife and went on with his
story, pitching his voice in a somewhat lower key than before:

"Well, it was about the procession, that the first breach of the peace
arose."

"I have heard that once already," replied the lady, yawning. "I like
processions."

"But," said the prefect, a man in the beginning of the sixties--and he
spoke with some irritation, "here as in Rome and every where else, where
they are not controlled by the absolute will of a single individual,
processions are the children of strife, and they bring forth strife,
even when they are planned in honor of a festival of Peace."

"It seems to annoy you that they should be organized in honor of
Hadrian?"

"You are in jest; it is precisely because I care particularly that they
should be carried out with all possible splendor, that I am troubling
myself about them in person, even as to details; and to my great
satisfaction I have been able even to subdue the most obstinate;
still it was scarcely my duty--"

"I fancied that you not only served the state but were my husband's
friend."