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When
he
got
to
what
had
been
his
home
in
Beverly
Hills
,
Johnny
Fontane
sat
in
the
car
for
a
moment
staring
at
the
house
.
He
remembered
what
his
Godfather
had
said
,
that
he
could
make
his
own
life
what
he
wanted
.
Great
chance
if
you
knew
what
you
wanted
.
But
what
did
he
want
?
His
first
wife
was
waiting
for
him
at
the
door
.
She
was
pretty
,
petite
and
brunette
,
a
nice
Italian
girl
,
the
girl
next
door
who
would
never
fool
around
with
another
man
and
that
had
been
important
to
him
.
Did
he
still
want
her
,
he
asked
himself
,
and
the
answer
was
no
.
For
one
thing
,
he
could
no
longer
make
love
to
her
,
their
affection
had
grown
too
old
.
And
there
were
some
things
,
nothing
to
do
with
sex
,
she
could
never
forgive
him
.
But
they
were
no
longer
enemies
.
She
made
him
coffee
and
served
him
homemade
cookies
in
the
living
room
.
"
Stretch
out
on
the
sofa
,
"
she
said
,
"
you
look
tired
.
"
He
took
off
his
jacket
and
his
shoes
and
loosened
his
tie
while
she
sat
in
the
chair
opposite
him
with
a
grave
little
smile
on
her
face
.
"
It
's
funny
,
"
she
said
.
"
What
's
funny
?
"
he
asked
her
,
sipping
coffee
and
spilling
some
of
it
on
his
shirt
.
"
The
great
Johnny
Fontane
stuck
without
a
date
,
"
she
said
.
"
The
great
Johnny
Fontane
is
lucky
if
he
can
even
get
it
up
anymore
,
"
he
said
.
It
was
unusual
for
him
to
be
so
direct
.
Ginny
asked
,
"
Is
there
something
really
the
matter
?
"
Johnny
grinned
at
her
.
"
I
had
a
date
with
a
girl
in
my
apartment
and
she
brushed
me
off
.
And
you
know
,
I
was
relieved
.
"
To
his
surprise
he
saw
a
look
of
anger
pass
over
Ginny
's
face
.
"
Do
n't
worry
about
those
little
tramps
,
"
she
said
.
"
She
must
have
thought
that
was
the
way
to
get
you
interested
in
her
.
"
And
Johnny
realized
with
amusement
that
Ginny
was
actually
angry
with
the
girl
who
had
turned
him
down
.
