A talented young man
inherits the family building firm and doubles its annual gross profit within
five years. He has always been
comfortably off; now he can live in unqualified luxury. He buys a penthouse flat in Knightsbridge and
a mansion in Cornwall; instead of battling through the London Underground he
hires a chauffeur to drive him to business meetings and wait outside until he
is finished. He buys his suits in Savile
Row and takes his girlfriends shopping in Harvey Nichols.
The 100th anniversary of the founding of the family firm
arrives and a lavish party is planned at a London hotel. After a five-course meal, champagne and
dancing, the young owner steps outside to get some fresh air and enjoy a
cigar. Comfortably full and pleasantly
tired, he goes for a short walk around the block. His stroll takes him under a bridge, where he
sees piles of cardboard and bundles of cloth.
The cardboard moves and he realises there are men sleeping under the
bridge this chilly night. Their clothes
are badly fitting and not very warm; their bedding insufficient; their dinner
the leftovers from a nearby bin.
The next day he signs the firm over to his brother, gives away his personal
fortune and joins the men sleeping under the bridge his grandfather built.
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