If I went to the kitchen perhaps I would find some scissors or a knife to cut the veil away from my cowl. Then at least I could have a drink. I eased...my way through the crowd. Even in the kitchen there were a dozen people. I looked around, a difficult operation under my cowl. I opened a couple of drawers at random without success. Then something attracted everybody else back to the main party. I turned towards the sink. A pair of feminine arms passed around my body and her breasts pressed. He was nineteen years old with medium height for a man of his age with the deep shadow of a beard and short wavy hair. He had moved to Pompeii about a year ago, having been disowned by his family and now forced to rely on his wits when he used to have his father’s wealth to fall back on. He preferred it this way, being on his own, as he had learned enough from his father about the rules of business to get a foothold in Pompeii the day he had arrived, not to mention that he crafty enough to. More

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