The Godfather


“The Godfather” By Mario Puzo



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Mario Puzo-The Godfather eng

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
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sudden clarity he realized that he was annoyed with the role assigned to him, that of the 
privileged noncombatant, the excused conscientious objector. That was why the word 
“civilian” kept popping into his skull in such an irritating way. 
When he got to the hotel, Kay was waiting for him in the lobby. (A couple of Clemenza’s 
people had driven him into town and dropped him off on a nearby corner after making 
sure they were not followed.) 
They had dinner together and some drinks. “What time are you going to visit your 
father?” Kay asked. 
Michael looked at his watch. “Visiting hours end at eight-thirty. I think I’ll go after 
everybody has left. They’ll let me up. He has a private room and his own nurses so I can 
just sit with him for a while. I don’t think he can talk yet or even know if I’m there. But I 
have to show respect.” 
Kay said quietly, “I feel so sorry for your father, he seemed like such a nice man at the 
wedding. I can’t believe the things the papers are printing about him. I’m sure most of 
it’s not true.” 
Michael said politely, “I don’t think so either.” He was surprised to find himself so 
secretive with Kay. He loved her, he trusted her, but he would never tell her anything 
about his father or the Family. She was an outsider. 
“What about you?” Kay asked. “Are you going to get mixed up in this gang war the 
papers are talking about so gleefully?” 
Michael grinned, unbuttoned his jacket and held it wide open. “Look, no guns,” he said. 
Kay laughed. 
It was getting late and they went up to their room. She mixed a drink for both of them 
and sat on his lap as they drank. Beneath her dress she was all silk until his hand 
touched the glowing skin of her thigh. They fell back on the bed together and made love 
with all their clothes on, their mouths glued together. When they were finished they lay 
very still, feeling the heat of their bodies burning through their garments. Kay murmured, 
“Is that what you soldiers call a quickie?” 
“Yeah,” Michael said. 
“It’s not bad,” Kay said in a judicious voice. 
They dozed off until Michael suddenly started up anxiously and looked at his watch. 
“Damn,” he said. “It’s nearly ten. I have to get down to the hospital.” He went to the 



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