I was, in fact, so weak that I nearly fainted when, unseen in the swarm of
bathers until he was close to me, I encountered Talponius Pulto, tall,
handsome, disdainful, sneering and malignant as usual. From his proximity
I escaped as unobtrusively as I could and as promptly.
The cold douche and a swim in the cold pool had revived me. Also, in the
cold pool I had encountered Nemestronia, still personable enough at
eighty-odd to mingle daily with her social world, as nude as they, and
enjoy herself thoroughly. Yet, at her age, she knew she looked better when
under water, and spent most of her time in the pools. She and I did some
fancy swimming together, while she questioned me about my health.
I did not spend any more time than I could help between the cold pool and
the tepid pool; no more at least than importunate acquaintances exacted of
me.
In the tepid pool I felt, somehow, weaker and more relaxed than at any
time since I had gone out the previous morning. The effect of the
Emperor's favor, the effect of the cold plunge, were wearing off: mind and
body were losing tone. I swam languidly, alone, on my back and so swimming
found myself about one third of the way from the upper end of the pool and
about midway of its width.
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