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〃guinea〃 wedding to please her father because she had so displeased him in her choice of a husband。
The groom； Carlo Rizzi； was a half…breed； born of a Sicilian father and the North Italian mother from whom he had inherited his blond hair and blue eyes。 His parents lived in Nevada and Carlo had left that state because of a little trouble with the law。 In New York he met Sonny Corleone and so met the sister。 Don Corleone； of course； sent trusted friends to Nevada and they reported that Carlo's police trouble was a youthful indiscretion with a gun； not serious； that could easily be wiped off the books to leave the youth with a clean record。 They also came back with detailed information on legal gambling in Nevada which greatly interested the Don and which he had been pondering over since。 It was part of the Don's greatness that he profited from everything。
Connie Corleone was a not quite pretty girl； thin and nervous and certain to bee shrewish later in life。 But today； transformed by her white bridal gown and eager virginity； she was so radiant as to be almost beautiful。 Beneath the wooden table her hand rested on the muscular thigh of her groom。 Her Cupid…bow mouth pouted to give him an airy kiss。
She thought him incredibly handsome。 Carlo Rizzi had worked in the open desert air while very young… heavy laborer's work。 Now he had tremendous forearms and his shoulders bulged the jacket of his tux。 He basked in the adoring eyes of his bride and filled her glass with wine。 He was elaborately courteous to her as if they were both actors in a play。 But his eyes kept flickering toward the huge silk purse the bride wore on her right shoulder and which was now stuffed full of money envelopes。 How much did it hold？ Ten thousand？ Twenty thousand？ Carlo Rizzi smiled。 It was only the beginning。 He had； after all； married into a royal family。 They would have to take care of him。
In the crowd of guests a dapper young man with the sleek head of a ferret was also studying the silk purse。 From sheer habit Paulie Gatto wondered just how he could go about hijacking that fat pocketbook。 The idea amused him。 But he knew it was idle； innocent dreaming as small children dream of knocking out tanks with popguns。 He watched his boss； fat； middle…aged Peter Clemenza whirling young girls around the wooden dance floor in a rustic and lusty Tarantella。 Clemenza； immensely tall； immensely huge； danced with such skill and abandon； his hard belly lecherously bumping the breasts of younger； tinier women； that all the guests were applauding him。 Older women grabbed his arm to bee his next partner。 The younger men respectfully cleared off the floor and clapped their hands in time to the mandolin'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 Valenti'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 bride'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 girl'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 Corleone'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 Don'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 Mancini'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 clotted…cheese and wheat…germ pies； their crusts yolk…gold； big around as truck wheels； arrived at Don Corleone's home。 On Christmas； on family birthdays； rich creamy pastries proclaimed the Nazorines' 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 black…market 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 man's shoulder to urge him on。 That was the mark of the Don'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 s