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