For years, shy little Sir Ernest Oppenheimer left aides breathless as he raced down into South Africa's mines or whisked surefootedly around the crags of high finance. "There's a special place in hell," he said impatiently, "for mining men who don't work with the deposits the good Lord has given them." Last week, a few minutes after joking with his son Harry, his doctor and his private secretary, Sir Ernest slumped over at the breakfast table with a heart attack. At 77, the "king of diamonds" was dead.
One of six sons of...
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