Крестный отец

           Now,thoughhisbrainsmokedwithhatred,thoughwildvisionsofbuyingagunandkillingthetwoyoungmenjangledtheverybonesofhisskull,Bonaseraturnedtohisstilluncomprehendingwifeandexplainedtoher,"Theyhavemadefoolsofus."Hepausedandthenmadehisdecision,nolongerfearingthecost."ForjusticewemustgoonourkneestoDonCorleone."

           ***

           InagarishlydecoratedLosAngeleshotelsuite,JohnnyFontanewasasjealouslydrunkasanyordinaryhusband.Sprawledonaredcouch,hedrankstraightfromthebottleofscotchinhishand,thenwashedthetasteawaybydunkinghismouthinacrystalbucketoficecubesandwater.Itwasfourinthemorningandhewasspinningdrunkenfantasiesofmurderinghistrampywifewhenshegothome.Ifsheeverdidcomehome.Itwastoolatetocallhisfirstwifeandaskaboutthekidsandhefeltfunnyaboutcallinganyofhisfriendsnowthathiscareerwasplungingdownhill.Therehadbeenatimewhentheywouldhavebeendelighted,flatteredbyhiscallingthematfourinthemorningbutnowheboredthem.HecouldevensmilealittletohimselfashethoughtthatonthewayupJohnnyFontane’stroubleshadfascinatedsomeofthegreatestfemalestarsinAmerica.

           Gulpingathisbottleofscotch,heheardfinallyhiswife’skeyinthedoor,buthekeptdrinkinguntilshewalkedintotheroomandstoodbeforehim.Shewastohimsoverybeautiful,theangelicface,soulfulvioleteyes,thedelicatelyfragilebutperfectlyformedbody.Onthescreenherbeautywasmagnified,spiritualized.