' "If you ravish me, sire, I will become pregnant and our mutual friend will know something has happened between us. He will be so angry he will send warships to bombard your cities."
' "You must tell him it was he who got you pregnant. Come along now, I cannot wait!"
' "He'll know it wasn't him, your Majesty, because he and I always take precautions."
' "Then take precautions now!" he snapped. "And please do not argue with me, madame!" '
'You handled it beautifully,' I said to Yasmin. 'So you put the thing on him.'
'No problem,' she said. 'It was easy. With Woresley I had had the most awful fight, but this time it was as easy as putting a tea-cosy on a teapot.'
'Then what?'
'They're pretty odd, these royals,' Yasmin said. 'They know a few tricks us ordinary mortals have never heard of.'
'Such as what?'
'Well,' she said, 'for one thing he doesn't move. I suppose the theory is that kings don't do any manual labour.'
'So he made you do all the work.'
'I wasn't allowed to move either.'
'Now don't be silly, Yasmin. You can't have static copulation.'
'Kings can,' she said. 'Wait till you hear this. You won't believe it. You simply won't believe this sort of thing could happen.'
'What sort of thing?' I said.
'I told you I had chosen a chaise longue covered in purple velvet,' Yasmin said.
'Yes.'
'Well, it turned out I'd picked exactly the right one. This damn sofa was some sort of a specially constructed royal romping ground. It was the most fantastic experience I've ever had. It had something underneath it, God knows what, but it was some sort of an engine and when the King pulled a lever the whole sofa began to joggle up and down.'
'You're having me on.'
'I am not having you on!' she cried. 'I couldn't make that up even if I wanted to and you jolly well know it.'
'You really mean there was an engine under the sofa? Did you see it?'
'Of course not. But I heard it all right. It made the most godawful grinding noise.'
'You mean a petrol engine?'
'No, it wasn't a petrol engine.'
'What was it then?'
'Clockwork,' she said.
'Clockwork! It's not possible! How did you know it was clockwork?'
'Because when it started to run down, he had to roll off and wind the thing up again with a handle.'
'I don't believe a word of this,' I said. 'What sort of a handle?'
'A big handle,' she said, 'like the starting handle of a motor-car and when he was winding it up it went clickety-click. That's how I knew it was clockwork. You always get that clicking noise when you wind up clockwork.'