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Updated: June 26, 2025
"You're right, Wally," answered the Billionaire. "If this works out on a large scale, in all its details well I needn't impress its importance on you!"
His suspicion ripened to conviction when his captors led him through two more rooms, into one fitted as an office. The billionaire sat at a desk, busy over some legal papers he was reading, but he rose at once and came forward with hand extended to meet Eaton. The young man took his hand mechanically. "Glad to have the pleasure of talking with, you, Mr. Eaton.
Greedy, thoughtless money machines in the form of billionaire tycoon-producers exploit Truman's life shamelessly and remorselessly in the ugliest display of human vices possible. The Director indulges in his control-mania. The producers indulge in their monetary obsession. The actors vie and compete in the compulsive activity of furthering their petty careers.
"I I thought," said the billionaire hesitatingly, "that I ought that is to say, that I might, perhaps, inquire might inform myself under what conditions one could, supposing the necessity to arise, obtain a passage in your in your ark. Of course the question of cost does not enter in the matter not with me."
"I do, now that you too have seen the light, and that you understand. Tell me, who are you?" A moment's pause. Then, facing him, she answered: "I am Catherine Flint, only daughter of Isaac Flint, the Billionaire!" Speechless and dazed, Gabriel stared at her as though at some strange apparition. "Daughter of of Isaac Flint?" he stammered, clinging to the bars.
I may be a heathen, but to my mind the funniest of all things is to see the world wringing its neck for a dollar. And Donald old History needs even less money than I. So that puts the big element of humour in this expedition of ours. We don't want money, particularly. Donald wouldn't wear more than four pairs of boots a year if he was a billionaire. And yet " He turned to Joanne.
Yielding to some kind of imperative curiosity, the Billionaire leaned over the side of the car leaned out, with his coat flapping in the stiff wind and for a moment peered back at the disquieting workman. Then the car swept him out of sight, and Flint resumed his seat again.
As he walked, striding along with splendid energy, he whistled to himself no cheap ragtime air, but Handel's Largo, with an appreciation which bespoke musical feeling of no common sort. The Billionaire caught sight of him, just as the car slowed to take the sharp turn by the station. Instant recognition followed. Flint's eyes narrowed sharply. "Hm! The same fellow," he grunted to himself.
Ten million dollars, a hundred millions, would not purchase a place in it! Did you ever hear the parable of the camel and the needle's eye? The price of a ticket here is an irreproachable record!" With these astonishing words Cosmo turned his back upon his visitor and shut the door in his face. The billionaire staggered back, rubbed his head, and then went off muttering: "An idiot! A plain idiot!
The sunlight of early spring, glad and warm over Manhattan, brought no message of cheer to the Billionaire. It bore no news of peace and joy to him. Its very brightness, as it flooded the metropolis and mellowed his luxurious inner office, seemed to offend the master of the world. And presently he arose, walked to the window and made as though to lower the shade.
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