The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
136
To his surprise he saw a look of anger pass over Ginny’s face. “Don’t worry about those 
little tramps,” she said. “She must have thought that was the way to get you interested in 
her.” And Johnny realized with amusement that Ginny was actually angry with the girl 
who had turned him down. 
“Ah, what the hell,” he said. “I’m tired of that stuff. I have to grow up sometime. And now 
that I can’t sing anymore I guess I’ll have a tough time with dames. I never got in on my 
looks, you know.” 
She said loyally, “You were always better looking than you photographed.” 
Johnny shook his head. “I’m getting fat and I’m getting bald. Hell, if this picture doesn’t 
make me big again I better learn how to bake pizzas. Or maybe we’ll put you in the 
movies, you look great.” 
She looked thirty-five. A good thirty-five, but thirty-five. And out here in Hollywood that 
might as well be a hundred. The young beautiful girls thronged through the city like 
lemmings, lasting one year, some two. Some of them so beautiful they could make a 
man’s heart almost stop beating until they opened their mouths, until the greedy hopes 
for success clouded the loveliness of their eyes. Ordinary women could never hope to 
compete with them on a physical level. And you could talk all you wanted to about 
charm, about intelligence, about chic, about poise, the raw beauty of these girls 
overpowered everything else. Perhaps if there were not so many of them there might be 
a chance for an ordinary, nice-looking woman. And since Johnny Fontane could have all 
of them, or nearly all of them, Ginny knew that he was saying all this just to flatter her. 
He had always been nice that way. He had always been polite to women even at the 
height of his fame, paying them compliments, holding lights for their cigarettes, opening 
doors. And since an this was usually done for him, it made it even more impressive to 
the girls he went out with. And he did it with all girls, even the one-night stands, 
I-don’t-know-your-name girls. 
She smiled at him, a friendly smile. “You already made me, Johnny, remember? For 
twelve years. You don’t have to give me your line.” 
He sighed and stretched out on the sofa. “No kidding, Ginny, you look good. I wish I 
looked that good.” 
She didn’t answer him. She could see he was depressed. “Do you think the picture is 
OK? Will it do you some good?” she asked. 
Johnny nodded. “Yeah. It could bring me all the way back. If I get the Academy thing 

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