52
“What do you think?” Professor Whitfield asked me, standing on a little hilltop overlooking the campus.
“It’s nice,” I said. “Really nice.”
And it was. Red brick buildings, lots of grass, lots of pine trees—like a little college carved out of the forest. Only about a fraction as big as Columbia University, if you look at the pictures, but cozy and sort of homey if that’s what you’re looking for. Not the sort of place you’d expect to go if you were someone with big ambitions.
“These are the labs,” Professor Whitfield said, leading me toward one of the long buildings closest to the parking lot. He opened the outside door, and his dog Bess came in with us, too. Probably another thing that’s different from Columbia—somehow I doubt Professor Hawkins lets you bring a dog into his lab spac
