“YOU’RE PATHETIC,” she said. Indeed, he was. But his wretchedness imbued him with a sort of dull glamour, an armor that kept him snug, protected. Women were drawn to him, forever straightening his collar, pushing back his shoulders, hungering to polish him up, feed him, introduce to him to self worth, a better him. He was pliant, content to yield to their ministrations, hold on to their skirts, and devour them.”