Very spoiled guy. Do you think because you're Johnny Fontane you can't get cancer? Or

a brain tumor that's inoperable. Or a failure of the heart? Do you think you're never

going to die? Well, it's not all sweet music and if you want to see real trouble take a

walk through this hospital and you'll sing a love song about warts. So just stop the crap

and get on with what you have to do. Your Adolphe Menjou (американский актер

(1890 – 1963), изысканно-аристократический) medical man can get you the proper

surgeon but if he tries to get into the operating room I suggest you have him arrested for

attempted murder."

Jules started to walk out of the room when Valenti said, "Attaboy (= at-a-boy –

молодец, молодчина), Doc, that's telling him."

Jules whirled around and said, "Do you always get looped (напившийся,

надрызгавшийся /сленг/; loop – петля) before noontime?"

Мультиязыковой проект Ильи Франка www.franklang.ru

Valenti said, "Sure," and grinned at him and with such good humor that Jules said

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more gently than he had meant to, "You have to figure you'll be dead in five years if you

keep that up."

Valenti was lumbering (to lumber – тяжело, неуклюже двигаться; lumber –

ненужные громоздкие вещи; бревна) up to him with little dancing steps. He threw his

arms around Jules, his breath stank of bourbon. He was laughing very hard. "Five

years?" he asked still laughing. "Is it going to take that long?"

A month after her operation Lucy Mancini sat beside the Vegas hotel pool, one hand

holding a cocktail, the other hand stroking Jules' head, which lay in her lap.

"You don't have to build up your courage," Jules said teasingly. "I have champagne

waiting in our suite."

"Are you sure it's OK so soon?" Lucy asked.

"I'm the doctor," Jules said. "Tonight's the big night. Do you realize I'll be the first

surgeon in medical history who tried out the results of his 'medical first' operation? You

know, the Before and After. I'm going to enjoy writing it up for the journals. Let's see,

'while the Before was distinctly pleasurable for psychological reasons and the

sophistication of the surgeon-instructor, the post-operative coitus was extremely

rewarding strictly for its neurological" – he stopped talking because Lucy had yanked on

his hair hard enough for him to yell with pain.

She smiled down at him. "If you're not satisfied tonight I can really say it's your fault,"

she said.

"I guarantee my work. I planned it even though I just let old Kellner do the manual

labor," Jules said. "Now let's just rest up, we have a long night of research ahead."

When they went up to their suite – they were living together now – Lucy found a

surprise waiting: a gourmet (гурман /франц./ ['gu∂meı]) supper and next to her

champagne glass, a jeweler's box with a huge diamond engagement ring inside it.

"That shows you how much confidence I have in my work," Jules said. "Now let's see

you earn it."

He was very tender, very gentle with her. She was a little scary at first, her flesh

jumping away from his touch but then, reassured, she felt her body building up to a

passion she had never known, and when they were done the first time and Jules

whispered, "I do good work," she whispered back, "Oh, yes, you do; yes, you do." And

they both laughed to each other as they started making love again.

Мультиязыковой проект Ильи Франка www.franklang.ru

Book 6

Chapter 23

After five months of exile in Sicily, Michael Corleone came finally to understand his

father's character and his destiny. He carne to understand men like Luca Brasi, the

ruthless caporegime Clemenza. his mother's resignation and acceptance of her role.

For in Sicily he saw what they would have been if they had chosen not to struggle

against their fate. He understood why the Don always said, "A man has only one

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destiny." He came to understand the contempt for authority and legal government, the

hatred for any man who broke omerta, the law of silence.

Dressed in old clothes and a billed cap, Michael had been transported from the ship

docked at Palermo to the interior of the Sicilian island, to the very heart of a province

controlled by the Mafia, where the local capo-mafioso was greatly indebted to his father

for some past service. The province held the town of Corleone, whose name the Don

had taken when he emigrated to Arnerica so long ago. But there were no longer any of

the Don's relatives alive. The women had died of old age. All the men had been killed in