I was sitting on the porch of a sprawling, white-pillared mansion, listening to my friend Margaret list her gifts as if she were announcing scores at a game. She gestured toward the estate behind us and said that when her first child was born, her husband built her this house as a reward.“Well, isn’t that nice,” I replied. Then she pointed to the Cadillac gleaming in the driveway—the gift for her second child.“How lovely,” I said. Next came the diamond bracelet, given after her third child. She held it up, expecting admiration, something beyond polite acknowledgment.“Well, isn’t that nice,” I…
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