He fell instantly asleep on the bed, while Inge had me brush her hair with her soft, ivory-handled hairbrush, and plait it with my own hands. I can remember wanting to tell her how lovely I thought she was, but having the courage only to let my all-licensed hands linger in that gleaming floss some moments longer than were necessary. She coiled the braid into a bun, and fixed it with two tourmaline pins. ‘Now go’, she said, ‘while I dress,’ and kissed me on my forehead.