Pliny grunted and lifted the wine to the candlelight.
‘A Caecuban,’ whispered Pomponianus, in awe. ‘Forty years old and still
drinking beautifully.’ He ran his tongue round his fat lips. ‘I wouldn’t mind
another glass myself, Pliny.’
‘In a moment. Watch.’ Pliny waved the wine back and forth in front of
them. It was thick and syrupy, the colour of honey. Attilius caught the sweet
mustiness of its scent as it passed beneath his nose. ‘And now watch more
closely.’ He set the glass carefully on the table.
At first the engineer did not see what point he was trying to make, but
as he studied the glass more closely he saw that the surface of the wine was
vibrating slightly.
from Pompeii by
Robert Harris
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