THE ROMAN ROAD
to himself, '"and wilt not thou say, dear city of Zeus?" That's from Marcus Aurelius,' he went on, turning again to his work. 'You don't know him, I suppose; you will some day.'
'Who's he?' I inquired.
'O, just another fellow who lived in Rome,' he replied, dabbing away.
'O dear!' I cried disconsolately. 'What a lot of people seem to live at Rome, and I've never even been there! But I think I'd like my city best.'
'And so would I,' he replied with unction. 'But Marcus Aurelius wouldn't, you know.'
'Then we won't invite him,' I said; 'will we?'
'I won't if you won't,' said he. And that point being settled, we were silent for a while.
'Do you know,' he said presently, 'I've met one or two fellows from time to time, who have been to a city like yours—perhaps it was the same one. They won't talk much about it—only broken hints, now and then; but they've been there sure enough. They don't seem to care about anything in particular—and every-
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