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

"A Millionaire of Yesterday"

Trent
a safe voyage and a speedy return."
The paper slipped from his fingers and he looked thoughtfully out
seaward. It was only one paragraph of many, and the tone of all
was the same. Ernestine' s words had come true - he was already a
man of note. A few months had changed his life in the most amazing
way - when he looked back upon it now it was with a sense of
unreality - surely all these things which had happened were part
of a chimerical dream. It was barely possible for him to believe
that it was he, Scarlett Trent, who had developed day by day into
what he was at that moment. For the man was changed in a hundred
ways. His grey flannel clothes was cut by the Saville Row tailor
of the moment, his hands and hair, his manner of speech and
carriage were all altered. He recalled the men he had met, the
clubs he had joined, his stud of horses at Newmarket, the
country-houses at which he had visited. His most clear impression
of the whole thing was how easy everything had been made for him.
His oddness of speech, his gaucheries, his ignorances and
nervousness had all been so lightly treated that they had been
brushed away almost insensibly. He had been able to do so little
that was wrong - his mistakes were ignored or admired as
originality, and yet in some delicate way the right thing had been
made clear to him.


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