But the Christmas spirit (дух = настроение Рождества) seemed to have cheered her up (ободрил, развеселил). She just wanted to ask Hagen what her father would really like for Christmas. And Sonny and Fred and Mike. She already knew what she would get her mother. Hagen made some suggestions (предположений, советов; to suggest [s∂’dGest] – предлагать, советовать), all of which she rejected as silly (отвергла: «отбросила» как глупые). Finally she let him go (отстала от него: «отпустила его»).
When the phone rang again, Hagen threw his papers back into the basket (в корзину ['bα:skıt]). The hell with it. He'd leave. It never occurred to him to refuse to take the call, however (однако ему никогда не приходило в голову отказаться снять трубку). When his secretary told him it was Michael Corleone he picked up the phone with pleasure. He had always liked Mike.
"Tom," Michael Corleone said, "I'm driving down to the city with Kay tomorrow. There's something important I want to tell the old man before Christmas. Will he be home tomorrow night?"
"Sure," Hagen said. "He's not going out of town until after Christmas. Anything I can do for you?"
Michael was as closemouthed as his father (неразговорчив). "No," he said. "I guess I'll see you Christmas, everybody is going to be out at Long Beach, right?"
"Right," Hagen said. He was amused (удивлен и развеселен: «развлечен», его позабавило; to amuse [∂‘mju:z]) when Mike hung up on him without any small talk (безо всякого «светского разговора» = разговора ради любезности).
He told his secretary to call his wife and tell her he would be home a little late but to have some supper for him. Outside the building he walked briskly (живо, быстро) downtown (в центр; downtown – деловая часть города) toward Macy's (название торгового центра). Someone stepped in his way. To his surprise he saw it was Sollozzo.
Sollozzo took him by the arm and said quietly, "Don't be frightened (не пугайтесь). I just want to talk to you." A car parked at the curb (у бордюра, обочины) suddenly had its door open. Sollozzo said urgently (настойчиво; urgent [‘∂:dG∂nt] – срочный, неотложный, необходимый; настойчивый, добивающийся; to urge – подгонять, подстегивать), "Get in, I want to talk to you."
Hagen pulled his arm loose (выдернул, высвободил руку). He was still not alarmed (не встревожен), just irritated (просто раздражен, возмущен; to irritate [‘ırıteıt] – возмущать, сердить). "I haven't got time," he said. At that moment two men came up behind him. Hagen felt a sudden weakness in his legs. Sollozzo said softly, "Get in the car. If I wanted to kill you you'd be dead now. Trust me."
Without a shred of trust («без крупицы доверия»; shred – клочок, кусочек) Hagen got into the car.
Three months later, Hagen hurried through the paper work in his city office hoping to leave early enough for some Christmas shopping for his wife and children. He was interrupted by a phone call from a Johnny Fontane bubbling with high spirits. The picture had been shot, the rushes, whatever the hell they were, Hagen thought, were fabulous. He was sending the Don a present for Christmas that would knock his eyes out, he'd bring it himself but there were some little things to be done in the movie. He would have to stay out on the Coast. Hagen tried to conceal his impatience. Johnny Fontane's charm had always been lost on him. But his interest was aroused. "What is it?" he asked. Johnny Fontane chuckled and said, "I can't tell, that's the best part of a Christmas present." Hagen immediately lost all interest and finally managed, politely, to hang up.
Ten minutes later his secretary told him that Connie Corleone was on the phone and wanted to speak to him. Hagen sighed. As a young girl Connie had been nice, as a married woman she was a nuisance. She made complaints about her husband. She kept going home to visit her mother for two or three days. And Carlo Rizzi was turning out to be a real loser. He had been fixed up with a nice little business and was running it into the ground. He was also drinking, whoring around, gambling and beating his wife up occasionally. Connie hadn't told her family about that but she had told Hagen. He wondered what new tale of woe she had for him now.
But the Christmas spirit seemed to have cheered her up. She just wanted to ask Hagen what her father would really like for Christmas. And Sonny and Fred and Mike. She already knew what she would get her mother. Hagen made some suggestions, all of which she rejected as silly. Finally she let him go.
When the phone rang again, Hagen threw his papers back into the basket. The hell with it. He'd leave. It never occurred to him to refuse to take the call, however. When his secretary told him it was Michael Corleone he picked up the phone with pleasure. He had always liked Mike.
"Tom," Michael Corleone said, "I'm driving down to the city with Kay tomorrow. There's something important I want to tell the old man before Christmas. Will he be home tomorrow night?"
"Sure," Hagen said. "He's not going out of town until after Christmas. Anything I can do for you?"
Michael was as closemouthed as his father. "No," he said. "I guess I'll see you Christmas, everybody is going to be out at Long Beach, right?"
"Right," Hagen said. He was amused when Mike hung up on him without any small talk.
He told his secretary to call his wife and tell her he would be home a little late but to have some supper for him. Outside the building he walked briskly downtown toward Macy's. Someone stepped in his way. To his surprise he saw it was Sollozzo.
Sollozzo took him by the arm and said quietly, "Don't be frightened. I just want to talk to you." A car parked at the curb suddenly had its door open. Sollozzo said urgently, "Get in, I want to talk to you."
Hagen pulled his arm loose. He was still not alarmed, just irritated. "I haven't got time," he said. At that moment two men came up behind him. Hagen felt a sudden weakness in his legs. Sollozzo said softly, "Get in the car. If I wanted to kill you you'd be dead now. Trust me."
Without a shred of trust Hagen got into the car.
Michael Corleone had lied to Hagen. He was already in New York, and he had called from a room in the Hotel Pennsylvania less than ten blocks away. When he hung up the phone, Kay Adams put out her cigarette and said, "Mike, what a good fibber you are (враль, выдумщик)."
Michael sat down beside her on the bed. "All for you, honey; if I told my family we were in town we'd have to go there right away. Then we couldn't go out to dinner, we couldn't go to the theater, and we couldn't sleep together tonight. Not in my father's house, not when we're not married." He put his arms around her and kissed her gently on the lips. Her mouth was sweet and he gently pulled her down on the bed. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to make love to her and Michael felt an enormous happiness. He had spent the war years fighting in the Pacific, and on those bloody islands (на этих окровавленных; проклятых островах) he had dreamed of a girl like Kay Adams. Of a beauty like hers. A fair (прекрасное; светлое) and fragile (хрупкое ['frædGaıl]) body, milky-skinned and electrified by passion. She opened her eyes and then pulled his head down to kiss him. They made love until it was time for dinner and the theater.