"Илья Франк. Английский язык с Крестным Отцом (Метод чтения)" - читать интересную книгу автора

frowned and shrugged as if convinced against his own natural desire. He
spoke again.
5 "But because of your youth, your clean records, because of your fine
families, and because the law in its majesty does not seek vengeance, I
hereby sentence you to three years' confinement to the penitentiary.
Sentence to be suspended."
6 Only forty years of professional mourning kept the overwhelming
frustration and hatred from showing on Amerigo Bonasera's face. His
beautiful young daughter was still in the hospital with her broken jaw
wired together; and now these two animales went free? It had all been a
farce. He watched the happy parents cluster around their darling sons. Oh,
they were all happy now, they were smiling now.
7 The black bile, sourly bitter, rose in Bonasera's throat, overflowed
through tightly clenched teeth. He used his white linen pocket handkerchief
and held it against his lips. He was standing so when the two young men
strode freely up the aisle, confident and cool-eyed, smiling, not giving
him so much as a glance. He let them pass without saying a word, pressing
the fresh linen against his mouth.
8 The parents of the animales were coming by now, two men and two
women his age but more American in their dress. They glanced at him,
shamefaced, yet in their eyes was an odd, triumphant defiance.
9 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 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.
10 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."

1 In a garishly (роскошно, крикливо) decorated Los Angeles hotel
suite, Johnny Fontane was as jealously drunk (так же "ревниво пьян" = пьян
из-за ревности) as any ordinary husband. Sprawled (развалившись) on a red
couch, he drank straight (прямо) from the bottle of scotch in his hand,
then washed the taste away by dunking (макая) his mouth in a crystal bucket
of ice cubes and water. It was four in the morning and he was spinning
drunken fantasies (плел = воображал пьяные фантазии) of murdering his
trampy wife (что он убивает свою гулящую жену; to tramp ( бродяжничать)
when she got home, if she ever did come home (если вообще придет). It was
too late to call his first wife and ask about the kids and he felt funny
about calling any of his friends (ему было неловко, как-то не хотелось
звонить кому-нибудь из друзей) now that his career was plunging downhill
(летела: "падала вниз; ныряла" вниз по склону, с горки). There had been a
time when they would have been delighted (были бы в восторге), flattered