He smiles, recognizing the flirtation for the simple social charm it is, and shakes his head.

"It is not the way we would do it, but this is not Roma." It's not Rome, and it could never hope to be, for all he longs to be in the city he'd been raised to serve.

He pauses, staring into the distance as he considers the roads he'd been involved in building, and the things that the men who'd built them said. "Even a layer of very small stones would make it more stable, if we could not find material for ... did you say 'cobbles'? The large stones on a road surface?"

It is a word he has not heard before, and he would like to be sure he is using it correctly.