[...] While we drink coffee, I look at my brother. He doesn’t seem happy, and maybe marriage isn’t what he had expected. Maybe he had imagined a wife that he could talk to about something other than love and the evening meal. Maybe he had imagined that they could do something else in the evening other than sit on each other’s lap and declare how much they love each other. I think, at any rate, that it must be just terribly boring. [...]