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Love Story part 3

Stupid and rich, clever and poor

'I'm not going to go for coffee with you,' she said.

'First. My other name is Barrett.'

'Oh,' she said. 'Like Elizabeth Barrett the writer?'

'Yes,' I said. 'No relation.'

I was pleased that she hadn't said, 'Barrett, like Barrett

Hall?' That Barrett is a relation of mine. Barrett Hall is a

large, unlovely building at Harvard University. My great-

grandfather gave it to Harvard long ago, and I am deeply

ashamed of it.

She was silent. She sat there, half-smiling at me. I looked

at her notebooks.

'Sixteenth-century music?' I said. 'That sounds difficult.'

'It's too difficult for you, Preppie,' she said coldly.

Why was I letting her talk to me like this? Didn't she readStupid and rich, clever and poor

'I'm not going to go for coffee with you,' she said.

'First. My other name is Barrett.'

'Oh,' she said. 'Like Elizabeth Barrett the writer?'

'Yes,' I said. 'No relation.'

I was pleased that she hadn't said, 'Barrett, like Barrett

Hall?' That Barrett is a relation of mine. Barrett Hall is a

large, unlovely building at Harvard University. My great-

grandfather gave it to Harvard long ago, and I am deeply

ashamed of it.

She was silent. She sat there, half-smiling at me. I looked

at her notebooks.

'Sixteenth-century music?' I said. 'That sounds difficult.'

'It's too difficult for you, Preppie,' she said coldly.

Why was I letting her talk to me like this? Didn't she read