Meanwhile Sextus Flaccus had been attending to the legal business connected with the transfer of the dead man's estate to his heir.

All this took time--time which Drusus longed to be spending with Cornelia in shady and breezy Praeneste, miles from unhealthy, half-parched Rome.
Drusus had sent Agias ahead to Cornelia, as soon as the poor boy had recovered in the least from his brutal scourging.

The lad had parted from his deliverer with the most extravagant demonstrations of gratitude, which Quintus had said he could fully repay by implicit devotion to Cornelia.

How that young lady had been pleased with her present, Drusus could not tell; although he had sent along a letter explaining the circumstances of the case.

But Quintus had other things on his mind than Agias and his fortunes, on the morning when at last he turned his face away from the sultry capital, and found his carriage whirling him once more over the Campagna.
Drusus had by personal experience learned the bitterness of the political struggle in which he had elected to take part.