Chapter 10 ten

ten Mr. William Thompson, the associate dean of Harvard Law School, couldn't believe his ears. "Did I hear you right, Mr. Barrett?" "That's right, Dean Thompson." It's not easy to say the first time.It's just as difficult to tell it a second time. "Sir, I want to apply for a scholarship for next school year." "real?" "Sir, that's why I'm here. Dean Thompson, are you responsible for the financial aid?" "Yes, but it's a little strange. Father—" "He's no longer relevant, sir." "What did you say?" Dean Thompson took off his glasses and wiped them with his tie.

"I had a little conflict with him." The dean put on his glasses again and looked at me with a blank expression on his face. If you don't become the dean, you don't want to have such skills. "That's unfortunate, Mr. Barrett," he said.Whose misfortune is it?I really want to ask.This guy is getting on my nerves. "Yes, sir," I said. "It's unfortunate. But that's why I'm coming to you, sir. I'm getting married next month. We're all going to do something for the summer. Then Jenny--that's my wife--goes to a I went to teach in a private school. Life can be settled, but the tuition fees are still not paid. The tuition fees of your school are quite expensive, Dean Thompson."

"Uh-yes," he replied.But there is no more text.Did this guy understand what I said?What on earth did he think I was here for? "Dean Thompson, I would like to apply for a scholarship." I said it bluntly.This is the third time. "My bank balance is zero, but the college has agreed to accept me as a graduate student." "Oh, yes," Mr. Thompson thought of a countermeasure. "The deadline to apply for financial aid has long since passed." How can this bastard be satisfied?Could it be that he wants to figure out those unpleasant details?Does he still want to set up some scandals?What on earth does he want?

"Dean Thompson, when I signed up, I had no idea that something like this would happen." "That's a good point, Mr. Barrett, but I must also say that I think the school authorities should never be involved in a family dispute. Not to mention a rather embarrassing family dispute." "Well, Mr. Dean," I said, and stood up. "I understand what you mean. However, your law school wants to add a Barrett Hall, and you want me to beg my father for mercy. I'm sorry, it's impossible." I turned around and left, and before I left, I heard Dean Thompson muttering: "It's too shameful."

He was absolutely right.