“The Godfather” By Mario Puzo 178
* * * Vito Corleone took a roll of bills out of his pocket and peeled off three tens. “Here is the
six months’ increase in advance. You needn’t speak to her about it, she’s a proud
woman. See me again in another six months. But of course you’ll let her keep her dog.”
“Like hell,” Mr. Roberto said. “And who the hell are you to give me orders. Watch your
manners or you’ll be out on your Sicilian ass in the street there.”
Vito Corleone raised his hands in surprise. “I’m asking you a favor, only that. One never
knows when one might need a friend, isn’t that true? Here, take this money as a sign of
my goodwill and make your own decision. I wouldn’t dare to quarrel with it.” He thrust
the money into Mr. Roberto’s hand. “Do me this little favor, just take the money and
think things over. Tomorrow morning if you want to give me the money back by all
means do so. If you want the woman out of your house, how can I stop you? It’s your
property, after all. If you don’t want the dog in there, I can understand. I dislike animals
myself.” He patted Mr. Roberto on the shoulder. “Do me this service, eh? I won’t forget
it. Ask your friends in the neighborhood about me, they’ll tell you I’m a man who believes
in showing his gratitude.”
But of course Mr. Roberto had already begun to understand. That evening he made
inquiries about Vito Corleone. He did not wait until the next morning. He knocked on the
Corleone door that very night, apologizing for the lateness of the hour and accepted a
glass of wine from Signora Corleone. He assured Vito Corleone that it had all been a
dreadful misunderstanding, that of course Signora Colombo could remain in the flat, of
course she could keep her dog. Who were those miserable tenants to complain about
noise from a poor animal when they paid such a low rent? At the finish he threw the
thirty dollars Vito Corleone had given him on the table and said in the most sincere
fashion, “Your good heart in helping this poor widow has shamed me and I wish to show
that I, too, have some Christian charity. Her rent will remain what it was.”
All concerned played this comedy prettily. Vito poured wine, called for cakes, wrung Mr.
Roberto’s hand and praised his warm heart. Mr. Roberto sighed and said that having
made the acquaintance of such a man as Vito Corleone restored his faith in human
nature. Finally they tore themselves away from each other. Mr. Roberto, his bones
turned to jelly with fear at his narrow escape, caught the streetcar to his home in the
Bronx and took to his bed. He did not reappear in his tenements for three days.