After leaving that interview and making sure that this tail was only in my imagination, I zig-zagged through the streets a little and without realizing it, I found myself in front of the Colosseum. How had I turned up here?
Well, obviously I’d walked there, but I hadn’t realized how absorbed I’d been in my thoughts. I was remembering the interview and how strange the answers were. Why would that have been the case? If he didn’t want to answer my questions, he could have said so. He didn’t have to receive me in the first place, that would have sufficed.
Of course it seems that his friend, the one through which he’d received me, had put him in a compromising position, and he made it quite clear to me, with those sharp words he offered me:
“Forget about the matter! We’ll never meet again,
