【正文】 m to bee his next partner. The younger men respectfully cleared off the floor and clapped their hands in time to the mandolin39。s wild strumming. When Clemenza finally collapsed in a chair, Paulie Gatto brought him a glass of icy black wine and wiped the perspiring Jovelike brow with his silk handkerchief. Clemenza was blowing like a whale as he gulped down the wine. But instead of thanking Paulie he said curtly, Never mind being a dance judge, do your job. Take a walk around the neighborhood and see everything is OK. Paulie slid away into the crowd.The band took a refreshment break. A young man named Nino Valenti picked up a discarded mandolin, put his left foot up on a chair and began to sing a coarse Sicilian love song. Nino Valenti39。s face was handsome though bloated by continual drinking and he was already a little drunk. He rolled his eyes as his tongue caressed the obscene lyrics. The women shrieked with glee and the men shouted the last word of each stanza with the singer.Don Corleone, notoriously straitlaced in such matters, though his stout wife was screaming joyfully with the others, disappeared tactfully into the house. Seeing this, Sonny Corleone made his way to the bride39。s table and sat down beside young Lucy Mancini, the maid of honor. They were safe. His wife was in the kitchen putting the last touches on the serving of the wedding cake. Sonny whispered a few words in the young girl39。s ear and she rose. Sonny waited a few minutes and then casually followed her, stopping to talk with a guest here and there as he worked his way through the crowd.All eyes followed them. The maid of honor, thoroughly Americanized by three years of college, was a ripe girl who already had a reputation. All through the marriage rehearsals she had flirted with Sonny Corleone in a teasing, joking way she thought was permitted because he was the best man and her wedding partner. Now holding her pink gown up off the ground, Lucy Mancini went into the house, smiling with false innocence。 ran lightly up the stairs to the bathroom. She stayed there for a few moments. When she came out Sonny Corleone was on the landing above, beckoning her upward.From behind the closed window of Don Corleone39。s office, a slightly raised corner room, Thomas Hagen watched the wedding party in the festooned garden. The walls behind him were stacked with law books. Hagen was the Don39。s lawyer and acting Consigliere, or counselor, and as such held the most vital subordinate position in the family business. He and the Don had solved many a knotty problem in this room, and so when he saw the Godfather leave the festivities and enter the house, he knew, wedding or no, there would be a little work this day. The Don would be ing to see him. Then Hagen saw Sonny Corleone whisper in Lucy Mancini39。s ear and their little edy as he followed her into the house. Hagen grimaced, debated whether to inform the Don, and decided against it. He went to the desk and picked up a handwritten list of the people who had been granted permission to see Don Corleone privately. When the Don entered the room, Hagen handed him the list. Don Corleone nodded and said, Leave Bonasera to the end.Hagen used the French doors and went directly out into the garden to where the supplicants clustered around the barrel of wine. He pointed to the baker, the pudgy Nazorine.Don Corleone greeted the baker with an embrace. They had played together as children in Italy and had grown up in friendship. Every Easter freshly baked clottedcheese and wheatgerm pies, their crusts yolkgold, big around as truck wheels, arrived at Don Corleone39。s home. On Christmas, on family birthdays, rich creamy pastries proclaimed the Nazorines39。 respect. And all through the years, lean and fat, Nazorine cheerfully paid his dues to the bakery union organized by the Don in his salad days. Never asking for a favor in return except for the chance to buy blackmarket OPA sugar coupons during the war. Now the time had e for the baker to claim his rights as a loyal friend, and Don Corleone looked forward with great pleasure to granting his request.He gave the baker a Di Nobili cigar and a glass of yellow Strega and put his hand on the man39。s shoulder to urge him on. That was the mark of the Don39。s humanity. He knew from bitter experience what courage it took to ask a favor from a fellow man.The baker told the story of his daughter and Enzo. A fine Italian lad from Sicily。 captured by the American Army。 sent to the United States as a prisoner of war。 given parole to help our war effort! A pure and honorable love had sprung up between honest Enzo and his sheltered Katherine but now that the war was ended the poor lad would be repatriated to Italy and Nazorine39。s daughter would surely die of a broken heart. Only Godfather Corleone could help this afflicted couple. He was their last hope.The Don walked Nazorine up and down the room, his hand on the baker39。s shoulder, his head nodding with understanding to keep up the man39。s courage. When the baker had finished, Don Corleone smiled at him and said, My dear friend, put all your worries aside. He went on to explain very carefully what must be done. The Congressman of the district must be petitioned. The Congressman would propose a special bill that would allow Enzo to bee a citizen. The bill would surely pass Congress. A privilege all those rascals extended to each other. Don Corleone explained that this would cost money, the going price was now two thousand dollars. He, Don Corleone, would guarantee performance and accept payment. Did his friend agree?The baker nodded his head vigorously. He did not expect such a great favor for nothing. That was understood. A special Act of Congress does not e cheap. Nazorine was almost tearful in his thanks. Don Corleone walked him to the door, assuring him that petent people would be sent to the bakery to arrange all details, plete all necessary documents. The baker em