My Uncle Oswald

Her answer astonished me. 'As a matter of fact I rather did,' she said.

'You did? You mean he wasn't too rough?'

'He made every other man I've ever met look like a eunuch,' she said.

I laughed at that.

'Including you,' she said.

I stopped laughing.

'That,' she said softly, taking another gulp of gin, 'is exactly how I want my men to be from now on.'

'But you said we gave him too much.'

'Just a teensy bit,' she said. 'I couldn't stop him. He was absolutely tireless.'

'How did you stop him?'

'Never you mind.'

'Would a hatpin be helpful next time?'

'That's a good idea,' she said. 'I shall carry a hatpin. But I'd much rather get the dose exactly right so I don't have to use it.'

'We'll get it right.'

'I really would prefer not to go sticking hatpins into the King of Spain's bum, if you see what I mean.'

'Oh, I do, I do.'

'I like to part company on friendly terms.'

'And didn't you?'

'Not exactly, no,' she said, smiling slightly.

'Well done, anyway,' I said. 'You pulled it off.'

'He was so funny,' she said. 'I wish you could have seen him. He kept hopping up and down.'

I took the sheet of notepaper with A. R. Woresley's signature on it and placed it in my typewriter. I sat down and typed the following legend directly above the signature:

I hereby certify that I have on this day, the 27th of March, 1919, delivered personally a quantity of my own semen to Oswald Cornelius Esquire, President of the International Semen's Home of Cambridge, England. It is my wish that this semen shall be stored indefinitely, using the revolutionary and recently discovered Woresley Technique, and I further agree that the aforementioned Oswald Cornelius may at any time use portions of that semen to fertilize selected females of high quality in order to disseminate my own bloodline throughout the world for the benefit of future generations.

Signed, A. R. Woresley

Lecturer in Chemistry,

Cambridge University

I showed it to Yasmin. 'Obviously it doesn't apply to Woresley,' I said, 'because his stuff isn't going into the freezer. But what do you think of it otherwise? Will it look all right over the signature of kings and geniuses?'

She read it through carefully. 'It's good,' she said. 'It'll do nicely.'

'I've won my bet,' I said. 'Woresley will have to capitulate now.'

She sat sipping her gin. She was relaxed and amazingly cool. 'I have a strange feeling,' she said, 'that this whole thing's actually going to work. At first it sounded ridiculous. But now I can't see what's to stop us.'