Henry said nothing, either. He closed his eyes, his face knitted in frustration, humiliation. He helped as much as he could, but his movement was greatly limited. It took far too long to get his pants on, and up to his waist. He felt like a child, helpless and weak.
He put his hand out to push the shirt away. He couldn't deal with that, not on his back. He groaned, knowing he was going to have to lean on Norah to get up, to get out to the car. He had never been so degraded in all his life.