"Let's take another."
"I'm with you."
"Let's make it two more."
"I still follow you."
"Horace wrote about his old Falernian, and the other wines which he
enjoyed, as he and the leading Roman sports sat around the fountain,
flirting with the girls," said Dalton, "but I don't believe any wine ever
brewed in Latium was the equal of this water."
"I've always had an idea that Horace wasn't as gay as he pretended to be,
else he wouldn't have written so much about Chloe and her comrades.
I imagine that an old Roman boy would keep pretty quiet about his dancing
and singing, and not publish it to the public."
"Well, let him be. He's dead and the Romans are dead, and the Americans
are doing their best to kill off one another, but let's forget it for a
few minutes. That pool there is about four feet deep, the water is clear
and the bottom is firm ground; now do you know what I'm going to do?"
"Yes, and I'm going to do the same. Bet you even that I beat you into
the water."
"Taken."
They threw off their clothes rapidly, but the splashes were simultaneous
as their bodies struck the water. Although the limits of the pool were
narrow they splashed and paddled there for a while, and it was a long
time since they had known such a luxury.
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