Re: Prologue - Isabella Frost
Given the question, she's actually paying a little more attention to him at the moment than the book, or the laptop for that matter. It seems an odd question to ask a passing stranger (though she's known people who do that...), so he can tell the wheels are definitely turning, her trying to place him in any of her classes or just around campus in general. She, herself, is used to being "the bookstore girl!" whenever people seem to know her.
"Well, it's a review, right? So you're perfectly entitled to express your honest opinion about him, unless your professor is an elitist snob who feels that all artists and their work should be regarded as sacred, even if it's utter crap." She grins a little. "And if you put my opinion down, that's me doing your homework for you and I don't do that." She puts a hand on her hip to emphasize the point, but she does, at least, consider what he's presented about one Mr. George Stanford, shifting around, moving the book closer to take a look at his work and seeing if she agrees with his opinion. As she leafs through the book, she continues. "As far as expressing your opinion on it, you could say just what you told me, but, well, elaborate on it," she says with a chuckle. "Talk about what you like about his work and then how it makes you feel. Art is supposed to invoke emotion and if all he's invoking is poseur for you, then talk about how lacking in spirit it seems to be, or something." She slides the book back toward him after she finishes speaking. She might not be offering much by way of completely answering his question, but it's about a good an answer as he's going to get out of her. Once her attention's off the book, too, she seems a little more interested in the desktop design than Mr. Stanford.