Princess Tinsley’s smile widens. While she conjures what to say next, Sir Lucas perceives a sort of liberation of his own. A sense of being able to blurt out whatever he chooses without concern for the ramifications. In contrast, when he is in the presence of fair Lady Robin, even while tripping, Sir Lucas of the Round Table(t) often feels that care must be taken concerning the proclamations that escape his lips. With Robin, there are limits to how mad or preposterous he can act and still feel “safe” to her ladyship, lest he cause her to doubt that he is indeed a suitable consort (see drive home from Cambridge). But with the mischievous pixie Princess Tinsley, what is there to lose? Why not let it all hang out?

But before anything is allowed to hang anywhere, a blue Frisbee lands within arm’s reach. Fifty feet away, a guy with red hair waves. Tinsley hops up and whips a flawless backhand straight at him. She turns and looks down at me with a triumphant grin.

“Show-off,” I say as Sir Lucas trudges off into the mystic misty swirl. The intrusion of the blue disk has broken the spell. The lark is over. Arno’s grass was excellent; there just wasn’t enough of it.

“Why? Because I’ve got a good arm . . . for a girl?”

Little does she know that Robin can fling a forehand that’ll go half a furlong easy. Tinsley waves to the red-haired guy, who slings the Frisbee back her way. Okay, I get it. She wants to show me that she can have sex with whomever she likes and play Frisbee with whomever she wants. She does what she pleases with whomever pleases her. But is there something forced about it? Doth the lady protest too much?

While Tinsley exercises her freedom, I roll onto my back, wishing for no exercise more challenging than watching the hazy edges of the clouds seep into the blue above. But no dice. Invasive thoughts pierce the faded cannabis curtain. It’s been eleven days and still no letter from Robin. I know that, like me, she is a practitioner of monogamy. At least serial monogamy. But what about the other aspects of women’s liberation? Does she also feel restrained and suppressed by the patriarchal society we appear to live in? We’ve never talked about it. And speaking of patriarchs, what is the paterfamilias if not a shining example of a first-class womanizer? How can Mom stand it? Why, in this enlightened day and age, does she tolerate it?