The lines around his eyes creased as he considered the open book, as if to enquire what I could possibly be reading at this hour of the night. “Pliny,” I stated aloud. There was a faint register of surprise on his face, which must have been the catalyst for me expounding. “Pliny the Elder, that is, friend of the emperor Vespasian.” “I would not have thought one would be ensconced in a library during a ball for Pliny the Younger,” he answered.
