As the only child of modest, even rather squeamish parents, Vinnie was six years old before she saw a naked human male – a friend’s baby brother. Because she was a polite child she made no comment on what appeared to her to kind of unfortunate growth on the baby’s tummy, a sort of large fleshy wart. Subsequently, through contemplation of public sculptures and her parents’ art books, it occurred to her that other males besides little Bobby had this handicap, though in art it was usually concealed, or partly concealed, by a sculptured or painted leaf. Other men, she concluded from a visit to the Rockefeller Centre and a photograph in Life of the Oscar Award, were not so deformed. When she discovered the truth, Vinnie’s main feeling was one of pity.