![]() I was staying with my uncle at his exquisite villa, on holiday from school, and as a special concession on this happy day, I was allowed to come down to dinner. I, myself, aged fifteen, was deeply privileged. As usual on such a day he was giving a party, a party for twelve people. There was nothing special about that day in the life of my uncle Octavian, except that it was his fifty-fifth birthday. He was a hospitable and most amiable man – until January 3, 1925. He was a charming and accomplished host whose villa was an accepted rendezvous of the great. Let me tell you a story which happened to my uncle Octavian a full thirty years ago. But there are other, more genuine problems. They are seldom problems of finance, since most rich people have enough sense to hire other people to take care of their worries. ![]() Many of them lead lives of particular pleasure. There are still some rich people in the world.
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