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Out
of
control
,
Bonasera
leaned
forward
toward
the
aisle
and
shouted
hoarsely
,
"
You
will
weep
as
I
have
wept
--
I
will
make
you
weep
as
your
children
make
me
weep
"
--
the
linen
at
his
eyes
now
.
The
defense
attorneys
bringing
up
the
rear
swept
their
clients
forward
in
a
tight
little
band
,
enveloping
the
two
young
men
,
who
had
started
back
down
the
aisle
as
if
to
protect
their
parents
.
A
huge
bailiff
moved
quickly
to
block
the
row
in
which
Bonasera
stood
.
But
it
was
not
necessary
.
All
his
years
in
America
,
Amerigo
Bonasera
had
trusted
in
law
and
order
.
And
he
had
prospered
thereby
.
Now
,
though
his
brain
smoked
with
hatred
,
though
wild
visions
of
buying
a
gun
and
killing
the
two
young
men
jangled
the
very
bones
of
his
skull
,
Bonasera
turned
to
his
still
uncomprehending
wife
and
explained
to
her
,
"
They
have
made
fools
of
us
.
"
He
paused
and
then
made
his
decision
,
no
longer
fearing
the
cost
.
"
For
justice
we
must
go
on
our
knees
to
Don
Corleone
.
"
***
In
a
garishly
decorated
Los
Angeles
hotel
suite
,
Johnny
Fontane
was
as
jealously
drunk
as
any
ordinary
husband
.
Sprawled
on
a
red
couch
,
he
drank
straight
from
the
bottle
of
scotch
in
his
hand
,
then
washed
the
taste
away
by
dunking
his
mouth
in
a
crystal
bucket
of
ice
cubes
and
water
.
It
was
four
in
the
morning
and
he
was
spinning
drunken
fantasies
of
murdering
his
trampy
wife
when
she
got
home
.
If
she
ever
did
come
home
.
It
was
too
late
to
call
his
first
wife
and
ask
about
the
kids
and
he
felt
funny
about
calling
any
of
his
friends
now
that
his
career
was
plunging
downhill
.
There
had
been
a
time
when
they
would
have
been
delighted
,
flattered
by
his
calling
them
at
four
in
the
morning
but
now
he
bored
them
.
He
could
even
smile
a
little
to
himself
as
he
thought
that
on
the
way
up
Johnny
Fontane
's
troubles
had
fascinated
some
of
the
greatest
female
stars
in
America
.
Gulping
at
his
bottle
of
scotch
,
he
heard
finally
his
wife
's
key
in
the
door
,
but
he
kept
drinking
until
she
walked
into
the
room
and
stood
before
him
.
She
was
to
him
so
very
beautiful
,
the
angelic
face
,
soulful
violet
eyes
,
the
delicately
fragile
but
perfectly
formed
body
.
On
the
screen
her
beauty
was
magnified
,
spiritualized
.
A
hundred
million
men
all
over
the
world
were
in
love
with
the
face
of
Margot
Ashton
.
And
paid
to
see
it
on
the
screen
.
"
Where
the
hell
were
you
?
"
Johnny
Fontane
asked
.
"
Out
fucking
,
"
she
said
.
She
had
misjudged
his
drunkenness
.
He
sprang
over
the
cocktail
table
and
grabbed
her
by
the
throat
.
But
close
up
to
that
magical
face
,
the
lovely
violet
eyes
,
he
lost
his
anger
and
became
helpless
again
.
She
made
the
mistake
of
smiling
mockingly
,
saw
his
fist
draw
back
.
She
screamed
,
"
Johnny
,
not
in
the
face
,
I
'm
making
a
picture
.
"
