Английский язык с Крестным Отцом

His analysis proved correct (его анализ оказался верным; analysis [’naelsis]; to prove [pru:v] – доказывать, подтверждать). Woltz kept him waiting for a half hour past the appointed time (заставил его ждать более получаса /после назначенного времени/). Hagen didn't mind (не обиделся, ему было все равно). The reception room was very plush (роскошным, шикарным: «плюшевым»), very comfortable, and on a plum-colored couch (на темно-фиолетовой кушетке; plum – слива) opposite him (напротив него ['opzit]) sat the most beautiful child Hagen had ever seen. She was no more than eleven or twelve, dressed in a very expensive but simple way as a grown woman. She had incredibly golden hair (невероятно золотистые волосы), huge deep sea-blue eyes and a fresh raspberry-red mouth (малинового цвета рот = губы; raspberry [‘r:zbri] – малина). She was guarded by a woman (сопровождалась: «охранялась»; to guard [g:d]) obviously her mother (очевидно, ее матерью), who tried to stare Hagen down (которая старалась, пристально глядя на Хагена, заставить его потупиться; to stare down – смутить взглядом) with a cold arrogance (с холодным высокомерием ['aergns]; arrogant ['aerugnt] – заносчивый, высокомерный) that made him want to punch her in the face (что вызывало у него желание двинуть ей кулаком в лицо; to punch – бить кулаком). The angel child and the dragon mother, Hagen thought, returning the mother's cold stare.

Finally an exquisitely dressed (изысканно одетая) but stout (полная) middle-aged woman came to lead him through a string of offices (через ряд офисов; string – веревка; последовательность) to the office-apartment of the movie producer. Hagen was impressed by the beauty of the offices and the people working in them. He smiled. They were all shrewdies (ловкачи, проныры: shrewdie; shrewd [ru:d] – пронизывающий, сильный /напр. о ветре/; сообразительный, быстро схватывающий), trying to get their foot in the movie door by taking office jobs, and most of them would work in these offices for the rest of their lives (всю оставшуюся жизнь) or until they accepted defeat (пока не признают: «примут» поражение; defeat [di’fi:t]) and returned to their home towns.

It was still dark when the plane landed in Los Angeles. Hagen checked into his hotel, showered and shaved, and watched dawn come over the city. He ordered breakfast and newspapers to be sent up to his room and relaxed until it was time for his ten A.M. appointment with Jack Woltz. The appointment had been surprisingly easy to make.

The day before, Hagen had called the most powerful man in the movie labor unions, a man named Billy Goff. Acting on instructions from Don Corleone, Hagen had told Goff to arrange an appointment on the next day for Hagen to call on Jack Woltz, that he should hint to Woltz that if Hagen was not made happy by the results of the interview, there could be a labor strike at the movie studio. An hour later Hagen received a call from Goff. The appointment would be at ten A.M. Woltz had gotten the message about the possible labor strike but hadn't seemed too impressed, Goff said. He added, "If it really comes down to that, I gotta talk to the Don myself."

"If it comes to that he'll talk to you," Hagen said. By saying this he avoided making any promises. He was not surprised that Goff was so agreeable to the Don's wishes. The family empire, technically, did not extend beyond the New York area but Don Corleone had first become strong by helping labor leaders. Many of them still owed him debts of friendship.

But the ten A.M. appointment was a bad sign. It meant that he would be first on the appointment list, that he would not be invited to lunch. It meant that Woltz held him in small worth. Goff had not been threatening enough, probably because Woltz had him on his graft payroll. And sometimes the Don's success in keeping himself out of the limelight worked to the disadvantage of the family business, in that his name did not mean anything to outside circles.

His analysis proved correct. Woltz kept him waiting for a half hour past the appointed time. Hagen didn't mind. The reception room was very plush, very comfortable, and on a plum-colored couch opposite him sat the most beautiful child Hagen had ever seen. She was no more than eleven or twelve, dressed in a very expensive but simple way as a grown woman. She had incredibly golden hair, huge deep sea-blue eyes and a fresh raspberry-red mouth. She was guarded by a woman obviously her mother, who tried to stare Hagen down with a cold arrogance that made him want to punch her in the face. The angel child and the dragon mother, Hagen thought, returning the mother's cold stare.