Cher Monsieur,
Nous ne nous connaissons pas, mais j’ai la conviction et la foi que vous pardonnerez la liberté que je prends de vous contacter lorsque vous aurez entendu ce que j’ai à vous dire.
Avant de vous dévoiler les raisons de cette étrange intervention, let me fulfill my duties as a man educated in presenting me briefly. My name is Arthur William Coolidge. I am an old and tired while faded. In saying this I am only repeating the words of my sad old maid, I can still hear echoing endlessly in the corridors. That said, this poor guy is right, it's a long time that I lost count of the seasons fade my carcass. Nevertheless know my dear friend - I hope you will allow me to consider you as well - I'm old and in decline, I am still immensely rich, and besides I can not tell you how many millions the vast flower fields of my bank account.
life, I made ten laps and I managed to get a few hours more than what a man could want for life. Today I do not know what to do with the fortune that lies at my feet emaciated. My heirs are not worthy and I see myself more of necessity. I attended all the operas, all operas, all live shows, I traveled in the nooks and crannies of the most remote corners of our world, I drank liquor India banned, cherished wild animals now extinct, sounded a thousand times the soul of the Sahara, abused the treasures of the jungle in Borneo, I deflowered the most beautiful women in the world, tasted the best wines, enjoyed the greatest dishes, admiring the masterpieces of mankind, I kiss the hand of the Queen of England, dined at the table of the Prince of Samoa and rubbed the ruling elite of this world, I'm a triumphant Caesar has read everything, seen everything, had everything. Today there is one thing that I did not and I want to risk my life. This thing my dear friend - all the gold in the world could offer me - only you can get it for me.
I can imagine that this confession resonates in the pit of your mind as the ravings of a poor old man lit up, but I assure you of my good faith and sincerity of my words when I need to tell you. Sir, believe me, death does not wait, she is currently on my doorstep, ready to shoot me with his scythe sharpened. But before drawing my bow, do we not give to Caesar what belongs to him? This land has one last thing I need voir, admirer, détenir et sentir filtrer à travers tous mes pores.
Je sais, cher Monsieur et ami, que vous connaissez de grandes difficultés financières. Si vous acceptez mon offre – et vous l’accepterez -, je vous promets de trancher net la tête de votre disette et vous assure un avenir luxueux jusqu’à ce que la mort vous fauche à votre tour. Je pourrai alors succomber à mon trépas tranquillement, ma fortune aura enfin trouvé un digne successeur.
Tout cela doit vous paraître bien confus et passablement précaire, j’en agree, but I would be very foolish to continue to write, I've already said too much, because even having taken steps to ensure that this letter will be delivered by hand, it is not immune to fall into those that are filled with bad intentions. Thus, for reasons that seem obvious, I'll have to keep the utmost discretion in all of this and invite you to continue this conversation on my land, during a weekend with me. My servant will then pick you up Friday from 18 to 17 o'clock. I have not a shred of concern not to see this day, my faith in you is unwavering, know it.
Do not worry my dear, I do not live within a hundred miles from home and I will put at your disposal all the necessary luxury for your well being.
A Friday.
Yours
AW Coolidge
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