Once again, nervous arousal riffles through me. A little while ago, I was happy lying here, comfortable, at peace gazing at this pretty, sexy waif. (Okay, and enjoying the benign stirring in my loins that she evokes.) Now I feel the need once again to remind myself that my heart shall never stray from the cold Canadian woods, where Lady Robin daily fends off horny lumberjacks and hungry polar bears.

“Lucas?” Tinsley nudges me back to the Lower Forty-Eight.

“Sorry?”

“What about you?”

“Uh, definitely prone to promiscuity.”

“Stop it. Seriously. Tell me about your family.”

Oh, no, not that. Dear pixie princess, must we explore territory that I don’t like to venture into when I’m straight, much less while mildly high and luxuriating on a lovely early evening with a lass such as yourself?

Thankfully, Tinsley must sense my discomfort. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” She claps her hands like a kindergarten teacher and asks brightly, “What shall we talk about instead?”

Thank God! Quick, Lucas, come up with something. “Barry said he met you at an art show. I’m not sure I ever thought of photography as art.”

Tinsley makes her eyes bug out. “Seriously? You’ve never heard of Ansel Adams? Diane Arbus? Man Ray? Stieglitz?”

When I admit that I haven’t, she launches — much to my relief — into a lecture about the history of photography as art, then admits that for her, that aspect is only a hobby. What she really wants to study is photojournalism. She’s just graduated from Ethel Walker, a private boarding school in Connecticut, and was set to attend someplace called the California Institute of the Arts in the fall, but then her mother came across an article about last year’s Valentine’s Day dance, which most of the students and faculty attended naked. That was the end of that. Now Tinsley’s trying to find a more discreet photography program, but it’s too late to apply for this coming fall (tell me about it), so she’s thinking about taking classes at the School of Visual Arts as a part-time student. (That won’t work for me. Part-time students don’t qualify for the 2-S deferment.)

But I do so enjoy hearing her go on about her life (if Charles thinks I live a life of privilege, what would he think of Tinsley?) instead of inspecting mine. In a way, she’s not all that different from Robin. They’re both passionate about causes (Robin: antiwar, Tinsley: women’s lib). Both interested in careers (Robin: the environment, Tinsley: photojournalism).