Not a novel--just a falsetto farce that barely achieves a titter in which medical biologist Goggins, and his lovely mistress, Dulcinea, settle in Paris to establish a pre-Masters & Johnson clinic cum laboratory where they work on (or is it up?) such characters as an Episcopalian churchman or a Middle Eastern oil potentate. None of this is even faintly prurient--Comfort's humor is all in his thumbs or in nomenclature such as Sir Frank Pus, or Fossil-Fundament, or Gaudeamus. Igitur, it's harmless even if no doubt likely to benefit from a little talk show and tell exposure.