If I were a millionaire I might be happy, but, alas, I am no millionaire!" "Good heavens!" gasped Robert.
Cold seemed to shoot to his inmost soul as it flashed upon him that this was a prelude to a confession of impending bankruptcy, and that all this glorious life, all the excitement and the colour and change, were about to vanish into thin air.
"No millionaire!" he stammered.
"No, Robert; I am a billionaire--perhaps the only one in the world.

That is what is on my mind, and why I am unhappy sometimes.

I feel that I should spend this money--that I should put it in circulation--and yet it is so hard to do it without failing to do good--without doing positive harm.

I feel my responsibility deeply.

It weighs me down.