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the rarefied, lonely demographic of woman too successful for love

When we talk about the three-martini lunch these days, it is with a sort of dismissive contempt, tinged with a pleasurable thrill of superiority. How much more sensible we are than them! How much healthier! How much more prolific! "How did anyone get any work done?" someone will invariably ask. But…

one can't help but experience a puritanical frisson