"Among those," he wrote to Madame Voland,[48] "whom chance and misery sent to my address was one Glenat, who knew mathematics, wrote a good hand, and was in want of bread.

I did all I could to extricate him from his embarrassments.

I went begging for customers for him on every side.

If he came at meal-times, I would not let him go; if he lacked shoes, I gave him them; now and then I slipped a shilling into his hands as well.
he had the air of the worthiest man in the world, and he even bore his neediness with a certain gaiety that used to amuse me.

I was fond of chatting with him; he seemed to set little store by fortune, fame, and most of the other things that charm or dazzle us in life.