Up that road the Romans marched and back by that road they returned to their galleys in the water there by Chichester.

I pictured you living in those days, a Boadicea of the Weald who had set her heart, against her will, on some dashing captain of old Rome camped here on the top of Bignor Hill.

You crept from your own people at night to meet him in the lane at the bottom.

Then came week after week when the street rang with the tramp of soldiers returning from London and Lichfield and the North to embark in their boats for Gaul and Rome." "They took my captain with them ?" cried Stella, laughing with him at the conceit.
"Yes, so my fable ran.

He pined for the circus and the theatre and the painted ladies, so he went willingly." "The brute," cried Stella.