Towards the end of a wonderful dinner, when dessert had been brought in and the servants had left, my uncle leant forward to admire a magnificent diamond ring on the princess's hand. But I should also stress that they were all old and intimate friends of my uncle Octavian. Even today, 30 years later, one may fairly admit that the company was distinguished.
At that age, you will guess, I was dazzled. It was exciting for me to be admitted to such company, which included a newspaper proprietor5 of exceptional intelligence and his fabulous6 American wife, a recent prime-minister of France and a distinguished German prince and princess. I was staying with my uncle at his exquisite 3 villa, on holiday from school, and as a special concession4 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 amiable2 manuntil January 3, 1925. He was a charming and accomplished 1 host whose villa was an accepted rendezvous of the great.
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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.