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Oppenheim, E. Phillips (Edward Phillips), 1866-1946

"A Millionaire of Yesterday"

He gasped for breath and walked restlessly up
and down the room. Other thoughts came crowding in upon him. He
was conscious of a new element in himself. The last few years had
left their mark upon him. With the handling of great sums of money
and the acquisition of wealth had grown something of the financier's
fever. He had become a power, solidly and steadfastly he had hewn
his way into a little circle whose fascination had begun to tell in
his blood. Was he to fall without a struggle from amongst the high
places, to be stripped of his wealth, shunned as a man who was
morally, if not in fact, a murderer, to be looked upon with
never-ending scorn by the woman whose picture for years had been
a religion to him, and whose appearance only a few hours ago had
been the most inspiring thing which had entered into his life? He
looked across the lawn into the pine grove with steadfast eyes and
knitted brows, and Da Souza watched him, ghastly and nervous. At
least he must have time to decide!
"If you send for him," Da Souza said slowly, "you will be absolutely
ruined. It will be a triumph for those whom you have made jealous,
who have measured their wits with yours and gone under. Oh! but
the newspapers will enjoy it - that is very certain.


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