“I’ve got some hot water ready,” he said. “I’d like to wash your hair.”
She giggled suddenly, explosively. “You’re crazy,” she said.
George shook his head. “No, I’m not,” he said stubbornly. “I want you to look nice.”
She studied him for a long moment. “You really are in love with me, aren’t you, George?”
“Of course. You didn’t doubt that, did you?”
She got to her feet and crossed over to him.
“All right: wash my hair if you want to.”
They went into the tiny bathroom together, and Cora sat on a stool before the wash-basin.
“Have you ever washed any other girl’s head?” she asked, watching George with a thoughtful expression in her eyes.
George wrapped a bath towel round her shoulders. “No,” he said. “I’ve never wanted to before.”