I know you never married, I said to Pliny the Elder, but you were fond of your nephew weren't you?
I was, said Pliny. He was my sister Plinia's child. His father died soon after he was born. For a time my sister, my nephew and I lived under the same roof. I adopted him, in the end.
What do you mean, in the end?
I mean in the end. I adopted him posthumously.
What, after he died?
No! After I died. It was written in my will, a testamental adoption.
Oh Pliny, that's so nice. In fact, it's rather moving.
Not at all. It was in order that he might inherit my estate. Had I not, it would have been impossible under Roman law, and there was no one else to inherit it. I wonder what he did with it?
Don't you know?
No, I have not delved into the family history.
Too busy?
Yes, I have been too busy.
You may rectify that when your book arrives.
Oh yes, Pliny's Women. It has not yet arrived. Where can that wretched book be?
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