”Yes, women lawyers were increasingly common from the late Republic on,” Malcolm explained. “Women in Imperial Rome weren’t confined to the home as they were in early times and other cultures.”
Margo liked that. The water clocks used to time the lawyers’ speeches fascinated her. Some dripped water from a tank into a bowl, lifting a float with an attached rod whose cogs turned the hour hand. Another kind used water pressure to blow a tiny trumpet every hour.
”An alarm clock,’ Margo marveled. “They use an alarm clock!”
Malcolm only smiled, which left her insides in turmoil.
They followed the course of the aqueducts through the city, while Malcolm explained how the public fountains worked and how the aqueducts fed the great public baths as well as private homes. He even hired a boat and took her into the immense Cloaca Maxima which drained the city’s swampy valleys.
He took her down the fullers’ street, showing her how “dry cleaning” was done by slaves who stomped soiled garments into damp fuller’s earth. The absorptive clay then dried and was beaten out of the cloth, taking with it oils and dirt. Then he let her watch Roman glass production, following that with a trip to a mosaic artist’s the best of ’em.” He hoisted the wineskin with a chuckle. “Come on, let’s find something to eat.”
Quite unexpectedly, Margo realized she was having a good time. She relaxed. Maybe a little dissipation would be fun. She’d certainly worked hard enough to earn a party. And if you have to say goodbye to this man someday soon, maybe you should enjoy him while you still have the chance. So Margo ate sausages that had been cooked in deep vats of olive oil, tried fresh-baked bread hot from the oven and wonderful little cakes made with honey and sesame seeds, and washed it all down with sweet red wine that left her giddy.