以前很喜欢这部小说，当时看书的时候，感动得痛哭流涕，呵呵我找到了他的英文版，希望大家能喜欢，因为是长篇小说。所以我是采取的连载的形式，希望大家交流一下心得哟。再次感受一下，当年的经典！
(one)
In the autumn of my last year at college,I got into the habit of studying at
the Radcliffe library. I didnt do it just to admire the girls,though I agree I
liked that too. The place was quiet,nobody knew me,and there was less demand for
the books I needed for my studies. The day before one of my midterm history exa
ms, I still hadnt found time to read the first book on the reading list.(That, o
f course,is a very common disease at Harvard.) I walked over to the reservations
desk to get one of the books which would save me from failing me exam the next
day. There were two girls working there. One was a tall,sporty type. The other w
as the quiet kind,in glasses. I chose her-Minnie Four Eyes.
"Do you have English Society in the Middle Ages?"
She looked at me. It was a sharp,unfriendly look."Dont you have your own lib
rary at Harvard?" she asked.
"Listen,Harvard student are allowed to use the Radcliffe library."
"I'm not talking about what you're allowed to do, Preppie. I'm talking about
what's right and fair.You fellows have five million books.We only have a few th
ousand."
My god,I thought. I wish I'd spoken to the sporty one! This girl's the type
that thinks that,because there are five times as many men at Harvard as there ar
e girls at Ridcliffe,the girls gave to be five times as smart.I can usually make
those types feel pretty. But just then I badly needed that damn book.
"Listen, I needed that damn book."
"Would you please watch your language,Preppie."
"What makes you so sure I went to prep school?"
"You look stupid and rich," she said,removing her glasses.
"You're wrong,"I said,"I'm smart and poor."
"Oh,no,preppie,"she said,"I'm smart and poor."
She was looking straight at me.Her eyes were brown.All right,maybe I look ri
ch,but I wouldnt let a Radcliffe girl-even one with pretty eyes-call me stupid.
"What makes you so smart?"I asked.
"I wouldnt go for coffee with you,"She replied.
"Listen-I wouldnt ask you."
"That,"she replied,"is what makes you stupid."
Let me explain why I took her for coffee.By allowing her to think I wanted t
o,I got that book. And,because she couldnt leave the library until closing time,
I had plenty of time to study it.I learned some useful facts about the church an
d the law in the eleventh century.As a result, I got an A in my history exam.Tha
t,by the way,was the mark I gave to Jenny's legs when she first walked out from
behind that dest. I cant say I gave her high marks for her clothes,however. They
were rather strange,to say the least.I specially hated that Indian thing that s
he used for a handbag. Fortunately I didnt mention this,as I later discovered th
at she had made that herself.
We went to a coffee shop near by.I ordered coffee for both of us,and a choco
lat ice-cream for her.
"I'm Jennifer Cavilleri," she said."I'm American,but my family came from Ita
ly." I had guessed that already."And I'm studying music,"she added.
"My name is Oliver,"I said.
"Is that your first or your last name?" she asked.
"First," I said.Then I told her that my full name.(well,most of it,anyway)wa
s Oliver Barrett.
"Oh,"she said,"Like Elizabeth Barrett the writer?"
"Yes,"I said."No relation."
In the silence that followed,I was thankful that she hadnt come up with the
usual question:"Barrett,like the hall?" For I'm ashamed to say that the Barrett
of Barrett Hall is a relation of mine. Barrett Hall is the largest and ugliest b
uilding in Harvard Yard. It is also a huge public reminder of my family's wealth
,pride and connections with Harvad.
She remained quiet.Had we run out of conversation so quickly? Had I disappoi
nted her by not being a relation of Barrett the writer? Or what? She simply sat
there,half-smiling at me.Just for something to do,I looked at her notebooks.Her
handwriting was unusual-small,sharp little letters with no capitals.She was cert
ainly taking some very advanced subjects:Music 150, Music201---
"Music 201? That's pretty advanced, istnt it?"
"Yes,"she said.She did not quite succeed in hiding her pride."Sixteenth-cent
ury polyphony."
"What's polyphony?"
"Nothing to do with sex,Preppie.It's a type of music. You wouldnt understand
it."
Wh was I letting her do this to me? Didnt she read the college newspaper?Did
nt she know who I was?
"Hey,dont you know who I am ?"
"Yes,"she answered,"You're the man who owns Barrett Hall."
She didnt know who I was."I dont own Barrett Hall,"I argued."My great-grandf
ather just gave it to Harvard."
"So that his not-so-great grandson would be sure of a place in college!"
That was the limit,I was angry now."Jenny,if you're so sure I'm a lover,why
did you push me into buying you coffee?"
She looked straight into my eyes and smiled.
"I like your body,"she said.
Part of the art of being a big winner is the ability to be a good lover.All
good Harvard men know how to turn a defeat into a victory.
And as I walked back with Jenny to her dorm,I had high hopes of a victory ov
er this Radcliffe cow.
"Listen,you Radcliffe cow,Friday night is the Dartmouth hockey match."
"So?"
"So I'd like you to come."
She replied with the usual Radcliffe admiration for sporting excellence:"And
why should I come to a stupid ice-hockey game?"
I answered,"Because I'm playing."
There was a moment's silence.I think I heard snow falling.
"For which side?" she asked.
