'Steady on,' I said.
'He wants a man,' she said. 'Well, you're a man. You're perfect. You're young, you're beautiful and you're lecherous.'
'Yes, but I am not a catamite.'
'You don't have the guts?'
'Of course I've got the guts. But field work is your province, not mine.'
'Who said so?'
'I can't cope with a man, Yasmin, you know that.'
'This isn't a man. It's a fairy.'
'For God's sake!' I cried. 'I'll be damned if I'll let that little sod come near me! I'll have you know that even an enema gives me the shakes for a week!'
Yasmin burst into shrieks of laughter. 'I suppose you're going to tell me next,' she said, 'that you have a small sphincter.'
'Yes and I'm not having Mr Proust enlarge it, thanks very much,' I said.
'You're a coward, Oswald,' she said.
It was an impasse. I sulked. Yasmin got up and poured herself a drink. I did the same. We sat there drinking in silence. It was early evening.
'Where shall we have dinner tonight?' I said.
'I don't care,' she said. 'I think we ought to try to solve this Proust thing first. I'd hate to see this little bugger get away.'
'Do you have any ideas?'
'I'm thinking,' she said.
I finished my drink and got myself another. 'You want one?' I said to her.
'No,' she said. I left her to go on thinking. After a while she said, 'Well now, I wonder if that will work.'
'What?'
'I've just had a tiny little idea.'
'Tell me.'
Yasmin didn't answer. She stood up and walked over to the window and leaned out. She stayed leaning out of that window for fully five minutes, immobile, deep in thought, and I watched her but kept my mouth shut. Then all of a sudden I saw her reach behind her with her right hand, and the hand started snatching at the air as though she were catching flies. She didn't look round as she did this. She just went on hanging out of the window and snatching away at those invisible non-existent flies behind her.
'What the hell's going on?' I said.
She turned round and faced me, and now there was a big smile on her face. 'It's great!' she cried. 'I love it! I am a clever little girl!'
'Out with it then.'
'It's going to be tricky,' she said, 'and I'm going to have to be very quick, but I'm good at catching. Come to think of it, I was always better than my brother at catching cricket balls.'
'What the hell are you talking about?' I said.
'It would mean disguising me as a man.'
'Easy,' I said. 'No problem.'