On the morning of the nineteenth day before the Kalends of September one of the runners brought me a letter.

It read: "Vedia gives greetings to Andivius.

If you are well I am well also." But this formal opening altered at once to familiar writing.
"You are acting like a silly boy.

As things are, both in my cousins' clan and in that of my late husband, I cannot receive you at my house, and you ought to have sense enough to realize that without being told.
Be patient and I shall arrange for an interview with you.

Please avoid me at the Baths, as I have you.
"Farewell." This letter greatly encouraged me and I felt so elated that I really enjoyed life for the next few days, which were filled up with a reception of my own each morning, a round of receptions to salute magnates, my salutation to the Emperor, a lunch always with some friends, a long nap at home, a lingering afternoon at the Baths of Titus, and a jolly dinner at some friend's house, for I was invited out twice each day.
On the seventh day before the Kalends of September, as I was on my way to the Palace levee, a runner inconspicuously clad ranged himself alongside my litter and handed me a letter.
It read: "She whose handwriting he will recognize gives greeting to Hedulio.
Take care! Do not let anyone see this letter; take care to seem negligent and uninterested as you read it.
"A conspiracy against the life of Caesar has been detected and reported.