[However motherly the action is, Rosalind goes about it with absolute cool precision, not a trace of caress or affection in how she straightens the just-long-enough-to-be-unruly brown hair into a sweep that the broad band holds back neatly.]

Actually, I'd made up my mind to sneak into a university laboratory. The operation of the gas burners was simple enough, and I'd prepared to work my way though the better part of the exercises of the textbook. [Whatever shape her mouth is in, a trace of a smile creeps into her voice as she snugs the first knot into the ribbon, just firm enough to hold.] I might have managed it, too, if I hadn't become so absorbed in the seventh or eighth reaction that I leaned a little too close to the flame. My hair, of course, slipped out from behind my ear.