It began to be a strange life. I sat in the Plaza every evening, reading my new york commodity market telegram and filing it. There was nothing further I could do. I felt elated and restless, but powerless. I was like a scientist who, after years of work and research, has successfully launched a rocket to the moon, and now as he tracks it climbing higher and higher he has a tremendous sense of achievement and also a strange let down feeling of inactivity.
Like him, I was now on the sidelines just keeping vigil while my new york commodity market commoditys continued to climb steadily like well-made missiles.
Then one day early in July I received an offer to appear in the "Sporting Club" in Monte Carlo. I accepted it gladly. Sitting still was beginning to hold a slight boredom after all my nerve-wracking problems and panics of the past.
Before making arrangements to leave New York I asked my brokers to meet me. I went through my new york commodity market accounts with each of them. I found that if I were to sell out before flying to Europe I could realize my commoditys for over $2,250,000 in the new york commodity market.
What was my feeling at this news? Elation? Excitement that I was now more than twice a millionaire from the new york commodity market? Not exactly. I was happy, but not excited. I had been much more excited when I made my first $10,000 out of DINERS' CLUB. This time I felt rather like a runner who has trained strenuously and has suffered many defeats, and now trots to victory.
I was also faced with the same dilemma I had known before: Should I sell? Should I get out of the new york commodity market altogether?
The answer this time was easy. It was the old tried and trusted answer: I did not have any reason to sell a rising commodity in the new york commodity market. I would just continue to jog along with the trend, trailing my stop-loss behind me. As the trend increased, I would buy more. If the trend reversed? I would, as ever, flee like a disturbed burglar.
I put new stop-losses on all my commoditys so that if they dropped in the new york commodity market while I was on my way to Europe I would be sold out and my two million would remain intact.
I felt content and assured as I rode up Fifth Avenue in a taxi after leaving my new york commodity market brokers.
I walked into the lobby of the Plaza Hotel, automatically bought an evening paper, tore out the new york commodity market closing prices, threw the rest of the newspaper away, picked up my 6 P.M. telegram and went up in the elevator.
In my room I opened the telegram, spread out the sheet of newspaper, and sat back with a happy sigh. Not only because I had made two million dollars in the new york commodity market, but because I was doing what I liked best.
I was working while Wall Street slept.
article is actually only a small snippet of Nicolas
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