SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

THE INVISIBLE WOMAN

CHAPTER I

He nodded his head slowly. "It makes me regular uncomfortable, the bare thought of that gal running about the country! She is at present At Large, and from certain evidence it is supposed that she has—taken—took, I suppose they mean—the road to Port Stowe. You see we're right in it! None of your American wonders, this time. And just think of the things she might do! Where'd you be, if she took a drop over and above, and had a fancy to go for you? Suppose she wants to rob—who can prevent her?

She can trespass, she can burgle,

she could walk through a cordon of policemen as easy as me or you could give the slip to a blind man! Easier! For these here blind chaps hear uncommon sharp, I'm told. And wherever there was liquor she fancied—"

"She's got a tremendous advantage, certainly," said Mr. Marvel. "And—well… "

2

THE INVISIBLE MAN

CHAPTER I

He nodded his head slowly. "It makes me regular uncomfortable, the bare thought of that chap running about the country! He is at present At Large, and from certain evidence it is supposed that he has—taken—took, I suppose they mean—the road to Port Stowe. You see we're right in it! None of your American wonders, this time. And just think of the things he might do! Where'd you be, if he took a drop over and above, and had a fancy to go for you? Suppose he wants to rob—who can prevent him?

He can trespass, he can burgle,

he could walk through a cordon of policemen as easy as me or you could give the slip to a blind man! Easier! For these here blind chaps hear uncommon sharp, I'm told. And wherever there was liquor he fancied—"

"He's got a tremendous advantage, certainly," said Mr. Marvel. "And—well… "

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

"You're right," said the mariner. "She has."

All this time Mr. Marvel had been glancing about him intently, listening for faint footfalls, trying to detect imperceptible movements. He seemed on the point of some great resolution. He coughed behind his hand.

He looked about him again, listened, bent towards the mariner, and lowered his voice: "The fact of it is—I happen—to know just a thing or two about this Invisible Woman. From private sources."

"Oh!" said the mariner, interested. "You?"

"Yes," said Mr. Marvel. "Me."

"Indeed!" said the mariner. "And may I ask—"

"You'll be astonished," said Mr. Marvel behind his hand. "It's tremendous."

"Indeed!" said the mariner.

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

"You're right," said the mariner. "He has."

All this time Mr. Marvel had been glancing about him intently, listening for faint footfalls, trying to detect imperceptible movements. He seemed on the point of some great resolution. He coughed behind his hand.

He looked about him again, listened, bent towards the mariner, and lowered his voice: "The fact of it is—I happen—to know just a thing or two about this Invisible Man. From private sources."

"Oh!" said the mariner, interested. "You?"

"Yes," said Mr. Marvel. "Me."

"Indeed!" said the mariner. "And may I ask—"

"You'll be astonished," said Mr. Marvel behind his hand. "It's tremenjous."

"Indeed!" said the mariner.

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THE INVISIBLE WOMAN

"The fact is," began Mr. Marvel eagerly in a confidential undertone. Suddenly his expression changed marvellously. "Ow!" he said. He rose stiffly in his seat. His face was eloquent of physical suffering. "Wow!" he said.

"What's up?" said the mariner, concerned. "Toothache," said Mr. Marvel, and put his hand to his ear. He caught hold of his books. "I must be getting on, I think," he said. He edged in a curious way along the seat away from his interlocutor. "But you was just a-going to tell me about this here Invisible Woman!" protested the mariner. Mr. Marvel seemed to consult with himself. "Hoax," said a Voice. "It's a hoax," said Mr. Marvel.

"But it's in the paper," said the mariner.

"Hoax all the same," said Marvel. "I know the chap that started the lie. There ain't no Invisible Woman whatsoever—Blimey."

4

THE INVISIBLE MAN

"The fact is," began Mr. Marvel eagerly in a confidential undertone. Suddenly his expression changed marvellously. "Ow!" he said. He rose stiffly in his seat. His face was eloquent of physical suffering. "Wow!" he said.

"What's up?" said the mariner, concerned. "Toothache," said Mr. Marvel, and put his hand to his ear. He caught hold of his books. "I must be getting on, I think," he said. He edged in a curious way along the seat away from his interlocutor. "But you was just a-going to tell me about this here Invisible Man!" protested the mariner. Mr. Marvel seemed to consult with himself. "Hoax," said a Voice. "It's a hoax," said Mr. Marvel.

"But it's in the paper," said the mariner.

"Hoax all the same," said Marvel. "I know the chap that started the lie. There ain't no Invisible Man whatsoever—Blimey."

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

THE PICTURE OF DORIS GRAY

CHAPTER II

"My dear fellow, I congratulate you most warmly," he said. "It is the finest portrait of modern times. Ms. Gray, come over and look at yourself."

The lady started, as if awakened from some dream. "Is it really finished?" she murmured, stepping down from the platform.

"Quite finished," said the painter. "And you have sat splendidly to-day. I am awfully obliged to you."

"That is entirely due to me," broke in Lord Henry. "Isn't it, Ms. Gray?"

Doris made no answer, but passed listlessly in front of her picture, and turned towards it.

When she saw it she drew
back, and her cheeks flushed for a moment with pleasure.

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THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY

CHAPTER II

"My dear fellow, I congratulate you most warmly," he said. "It is the finest portrait of modern times. Mr. Gray, come over and look at yourself."

The lad started, as if awakened from some dream. "Is it really finished?" he murmured, stepping down from the platform.

"Quite finished," said the painter. "And you have sat splendidly to-day. I am awfully obliged to you."

"That is entirely due to me," broke in Lord Henry. "Isn't it, Mr. Gray?"

Dorian made no answer, but passed listlessly in front of his picture, and turned towards it.

When he saw it he drew
back, and his cheeks flushed for a moment with pleasure.

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

A look of joy came into her eyes, as if she had recognised herself for the first time. She stood there motionless and in wonder, dimly conscious that Hallward was speaking to her, but not catching the meaning of his words.

The sense of her own
beauty came on her like a revelation.

She had never felt it before. Basil Hallward's compliments had seemed to her to be merely the charming exaggerations of friendship. She had listened to them, laughed at them, forgotten them. They had not influenced her nature. Then had come Lord Henry Wotton with his strange panegyric on youth, his terrible warning of its brevity. That had stirred her at the time, and now, as she stood gazing at the shadow of her own loveliness, the full reality of the description flashed across her. Yes, there would be a day when her face would be wrinkled and wizen, her eyes dim and colourless, the grace of her figure broken and deformed. The scarlet would pass away from her lips, and the gold steal from her hair. The life that was to make her soul

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

A look of joy came into his eyes, as if he had recognised himself for the first time. He stood there motionless and in wonder, dimly conscious that Hallward was speaking to him, but not catching the meaning of his words.

The sense of his own
beauty came on him like a revelation.

He had never felt it before. Basil Hallward's compliments had seemed to him to be merely the charming exaggerations of friendship. He had listened to them, laughed at them, forgotten them. They had not influenced his nature. Then had come Lord Henry Wotton with his strange panegyric on youth, his terrible warning of its brevity. That had stirred him at the time, and now, as he stood gazing at the shadow of his own loveliness, the full reality of the description flashed across him. Yes, there would be a day when his face would be wrinkled and wizen, his eyes dim and colourless, the grace of his figure broken and deformed. The scarlet would pass away from his lips, and the gold steal from his hair. The life that was to make his soul

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THE PICTURE OF DORIS GRAY

would mar her body. She would become dreadful, hideous, and uncouth.

As she thought of it, a sharp pang of pain struck through her like a knife, and made each delicate fibre of her nature quiver. Her eyes deepened into amethyst, and across them came a mist of tears. She felt as if a hand of ice had been laid upon her heart.

"Don't you like it?" cried Hallward at last, stung a little by the lady's silence, not understanding what it meant.

"Of course she likes it," said Lord Henry. "Who wouldn't like it? It is one of the greatest things in modern art. I will give you anything you like to ask for it. I must have it."

"It is not my property, Harry."

"Whose property is it?"

"Doris’, of course," answered the painter.

"She is a very lucky fellow."

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THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY

would mar his body. He would become dreadful, hideous, and uncouth.

As he thought of it, a sharp pang of pain struck through him like a knife, and made each delicate fibre of his nature quiver. His eyes deepened into amethyst, and across them came a mist of tears. He felt as if a hand of ice had been laid upon his heart.

"Don't you like it?" cried Hallward at last, stung a little by the lad's silence, not understanding what it meant.

"Of course he likes it," said Lord Henry. "Who wouldn't like it? It is one of the greatest things in modern art. I will give you anything you like to ask for it. I must have it."

"It is not my property, Harry."

"Whose property is it?"

"Dorian's, of course," answered the painter.

"He is a very lucky fellow."

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

DRACULESS

CHAPTER III

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Countess’s voice saying to me, “Good-morning.” I started, for it amazed me that I had not seen her, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me. In starting I had cut myself slightly, but did not notice it at the moment. Having answered the Countess’s salutation, I turned to the glass again to see how I had been mistaken. This time there could be no error,

for the woman was close to me, and I could see her

over my shoulder. But there was no reflection of her in the mirror! The whole room behind me was displayed; but there was no sign of a woman in it, except myself. This was startling, and, coming on the top of so many strange things, was beginning to increase that vague feeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Countess is near; but at the instant I saw that the cut had bled a little, and the blood was trickling over my chin. I laid down the razor, turning as I did so half round to look for some sticking plaster.

10

DRACULA

CHAPTER III

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and heard the Count’s voice saying to me, “Good-morning.” I started, for it amazed me that I had not seen him, since the reflection of the glass covered the whole room behind me. In starting I had cut myself slightly, but did not notice it at the moment. Having answered the Count’s salutation, I turned to the glass again to see how I had been mistaken. This time there could be no error,

for the man was close to me, and I could see him

over my shoulder. But there was no reflection of him in the mirror! The whole room behind me was displayed; but there was no sign of a man in it, except myself. This was startling, and, coming on the top of so many strange things, was beginning to increase that vague feeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near; but at the instant I saw that the cut had bled a little, and the blood was trickling over my chin. I laid down the razor, turning as I did so half round to look for some sticking plaster.

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

When the Countess saw my face, her eyes blazed

with a sort of demoniac fury, and she suddenly made a grab at my throat. I drew away, and her hand touched the string of beads which held the crucifix. It made an instant change in her, for the fury passed so quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.

“Take care,” she said, “take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country.”

Then seizing the shaving glass, she went on: “And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man’s vanity. Away with it!” and opening the heavy window with one wrench of her terrible hand, she flung out the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below. Then she withdrew without a word. It is very annoying, for I do not see how I am to shave, unless in my watch-case or the bottom of the shaving-pot, which is fortunately of metal.

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

When the Count saw my face, his eyes blazed

with a sort of demoniac fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat. I drew away, and his hand touched the string of beads which held the crucifix. It made an instant change in him, for the fury passed so quickly that I could hardly believe that it was ever there.

“Take care,” he said, “take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country.”

Then seizing the shaving glass, he went on: “And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man’s vanity. Away with it!” and opening the heavy window with one wrench of his terrible hand, he flung out the glass, which was shattered into a thousand pieces on the stones of the courtyard far below. Then he withdrew without a word. It is very annoying, for I do not see how I am to shave, unless in my watch-case or the bottom of the shaving-pot, which is fortunately of metal.

11

DRACULESS

When I went into the dining-room, breakfast was prepared; but I could not find the Countess anywhere. So I breakfasted alone.

It is strange that as yet I
have not seen the Countess
eat or drink. She must be a very peculiar woman!

12

DRACULA

When I went into the dining-room, breakfast was prepared; but I could not find the Count anywhere. So I breakfasted alone.

It is strange that as yet I
have not seen the Count
eat or drink. He must be a very peculiar man!

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

OLIVIA TWIST

CHAPTER IV

The evening arrived: the girls took their places; the master in his cook’s uniform stationed himself at the copper; his pauper assistants ranged themselves behind him; the gruel was served out, and a long grace was said over the short commons. The gruel disappeared, and the girls whispered each other and winked at Olivia, while her next neighbours nudged her. Child as she was, she was desperate with hunger and reckless with misery.

She rose from the table,
and advancing, basin and
spoon in hand,

to the master, said, somewhat alarmed at her own temerity—

“Please, sir, I want some more.”

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OLIVER TWIST

CHAPTER IV

The evening arrived: the boys took their places; the master in his cook’s uniform stationed himself at the copper; his pauper assistants ranged themselves behind him; the gruel was served out, and a long grace was said over the short commons. The gruel disappeared, and the boys whispered each other and winked at Oliver, while his next neighbours nudged him. Child as he was, he was desperate with hunger and reckless with misery.

He rose from the table,
and advancing, basin and spoon in hand,

to the master, said, somewhat alarmed at his own temerity—

“Please, sir, I want some more.”

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

The master was a fat, healthy man, but he turned very pale. He gazed in stupefied astonishment on the small rebel for some seconds, and then clung for support to the copper. The assistants were paralysed with wonder, and the girls with fear.

“What!” said the master at length, in a faint voice.

“Please, sir,” replied Olivia, “I want some more.”

The master aimed a blow at Olivia’s head with the ladle, pinioned her in his arms, and shrieked aloud for the beadle.

The board were sitting in solemn conclave when Mr. Bumble rushed into the room in great excitement, and addressing the gentleman in the high chair, said—

“Mr. Limbkins, I beg your pardon, sir;—Olivia Twist has asked for more.” There was a general start. Horror was depicted on every countenance.

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

The master was a fat, healthy man, but he turned very pale. He gazed in stupefied astonishment on the small rebel for some seconds, and then clung for support to the copper. The assistants were paralysed with wonder, and the boys with fear.

“What!” said the master at length, in a faint voice.

“Please, sir,” replied Oliver, “I want some more.”

The master aimed a blow at Oliver’s head with the ladle, pinioned him in his arms, and shrieked aloud for the beadle.

The board were sitting in solemn conclave when Mr. Bumble rushed into the room in great excitement, and addressing the gentleman in the high chair, said—

“Mr. Limbkins, I beg your pardon, sir;—Oliver Twist has asked for more.” There was a general start. Horror was depicted on every countenance.

15

OLIVIA TWIST

“For more!” said Mr. Limbkins. “Compose yourself, Bumble, and answer me distinctly. Do I understand that she asked for more, after she had eaten the supper allotted by the dietary?”

She did, sir,” replied Bumble.

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OLIVER TWIST

“For more!” said Mr. Limbkins. “Compose yourself, Bumble, and answer me distinctly. Do I understand that he asked for more, after he had eaten the supper allotted by the dietary?”

“He did, sir,” replied Bumble.

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

THE GREAT GABY

CHAPTER V

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her name when Jordan looked around and smiled.

"Having a gay time now?" she inquired.

"Much better." I turned again to my new acquaintance. "This is an unusual party for me. I haven't even seen the host. I live over there----" I waved my hand at the invisible hedge in the distance, "and this woman Gaby sent over her chauffeur with an invitation."

For a moment she looked at me as if she failed to understand.

"I'm Gaby," she said suddenly.

"What!" I exclaimed. "Oh, I beg your pardon."

"I thought you knew, old sport. I'm afraid I'm not a very good host."

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THE GREAT GATSBY

CHAPTER V

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask his name when Jordan looked around and smiled.

"Having a gay time now?" he inquired.

"Much better." I turned again to my new acquaintance. "This is an unusual party for me. I haven't even seen the host. I live over there----" I waved my hand at the invisible hedge in the distance, "and this man Gatsby sent over his chauffeur with an invitation."

For a moment he looked at me as if he failed to understand.

"I'm Gatsby," he said suddenly.

"What!" I exclaimed. "Oh, I beg your pardon."

"I thought you knew, old sport. I'm afraid I'm not a very good host."

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

She smiled understandingly--

much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or seemed to face--the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on YOU with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey. Precisely at that point it vanished--and I was looking at an elegant young rough-neck, a year or two over thirty, whose elaborate formality of speech just missed being absurd. Some time before she introduced herself I'd got a strong impression that she was picking her words with care.

Almost at the
moment when Ms. Gaby identified herself

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

He smiled understandingly--

much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or seemed to face--the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on YOU with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey. Precisely at that point it vanished--and I was looking at an elegant young rough-neck, a year or two over thirty, whose elaborate formality of speech just missed being absurd. Some time before he introduced himself I'd got a strong impression that he was picking his words with care.

Almost at the
moment when Mr. Gatsby identified himself

19

THE GREAT GABY

a butler hurried toward her with the information that Chicago was calling her on the wire. She excused herself with a small bow that included each of us in turn.

"If you want anything just ask for it, old sport," she urged me. "Excuse me. I will rejoin you later."

When she was gone I turned immediately to Jordan--constrained to assure her of my surprise. I had expected that Ms. Gaby would be a florid and corpulent person in her middle years.

"Who is she?" I demanded. "Do you know?"

"She's just a woman named Gaby."

20

THE GREAT GATSBY

a butler hurried toward him with the information that Chicago was calling him on the wire. He excused himself with a small bow that included each of us in turn.

"If you want anything just ask for it, old sport," he urged me. "Excuse me. I will rejoin you later."

When he was gone I turned immediately to Jordan--constrained to assure her of my surprise. I had expected that Mr. Gatsby would be a florid and corpulent person in his middle years.

"Who is he?" I demanded. "Do you know?"

"He's just a man named Gatsby."

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

THE GODMOTHER

CHAPTER VI

Donna Vita Corleone was a woman to whom everybody came for help, and never were they disappointed. She made no empty promises, nor the craven excuse that her hands were tied by more powerful forces in the world than herself. It was not necessary that she be your friend, it was not even important that you had no means with which to repay her. Only one thing was required. That you, you yourself, proclaim your friendship. And then, no matter how poor or powerless the supplicant, Donna Corleone would take that man’s troubles to her heart. And she would let nothing stand in the way to a solution of that man’s woe.

Her reward? Friendship, the respectful title of “Donna,”

22

THE GODFATHER

CHAPTER VI

Don Vito Corleone was a man to whom everybody came for help, and never were they disappointed. He made no empty promises, nor the craven excuse that his hands were tied by more powerful forces in the world than himself. It was not necessary that he be your friend, it was not even important that you had no means with which to repay him. Only one thing was required. That you, you yourself, proclaim your friendship. And then, no matter how poor or powerless the supplicant, Don Corleone would take that man’s troubles to his heart. And he would let nothing stand in the way to a solution of that man’s woe.

His reward? Friendship, the respectful title of “Don,”

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

and sometimes the more affectionate salutation of “Godmother.” And perhaps, to show respect only, never for profit, some humble gift– a gallon of homemade wine or a basket of peppered taralles– specially baked to grace her Christmas table. It was understood, it was mere good manners, to proclaim that you were in her debt and that she had the right to call upon you at any time to redeem your debt by some small service.

Now on this great day, her daughter’s wedding day, Donna Vita Corleone stood in the doorway of her Long Beach home to greet her guests, all of them known, all of them trusted.

Many of them owed
their good fortune in life to the Donna

and on this intimate occasion felt free to call herGodmother” to her face. Even the people performing festal services were her friends. The bartender was an old comrade whose gift was all the wedding liquors and his own expert skills. The waiters were the friends of Donna

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SHEQUEL: THE FEMTHOLOGY

and sometimes the more affectionate salutation of “Godfather.” And perhaps, to show respect only, never for profit, some humble gift– a gallon of homemade wine or a basket of peppered taralles– specially baked to grace his Christmas table. It was understood, it was mere good manners, to proclaim that you were in his debt and that he had the right to call upon you at any time to redeem your debt by some small service.

Now on this great day, his daughter’s wedding day, Don Vito Corleone stood in the doorway of his Long Beach home to greet his guests, all of them known, all of them trusted.

Many of them owed
their good fortune in life to the Don

and on this intimate occasion felt free to call him “Godfather” to his face. Even the people performing festal services were his friends. The bartender was an old comrade whose gift was all the wedding liquors and his own expert skills. The waiters were the friends of Don

23

THE GODMOTHER

Corleone’s sons. The food on the garden picnic tables had been cooked by the Donna’s husband and his friends and the gaily festooned one-acre garden itself had been decorated by the young girl–chums of the bride.

Donna Corleone received everyone– rich and poor, powerful and humble– with an equal show of love.

She slighted no one. That was her character.

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THE GODFATHER

Corleone’s sons. The food on the garden picnic tables had been cooked by the Don’s wife and her friends and the gaily festooned one-acre garden itself had been decorated by the young girl–chums of the bride.

Don Corleone received everyone– rich and poor, powerful and humble– with an equal show of love.

He slighted no one. That was his character.

24