An agonizingly uncomplicated novel, this tells how the shrewd hero, tuned in on a deal, makes a cool million on the stock market in little over a month. Otherwise, he was just a $10,000-a-year stockbroker with a $300,000 inheritance hanging over his head. And he's married to Spanish ex-royalty, a delicate girl who spends $200 for each dress (before accessories). The author's intention seems to have been to write the only available True Romance story about Wall Street. The only shadow on the hero's coup is a temporary market Setback resulting from the President's heart attack, which passes quickly. Blessedly, the big executive-suite complexities of office politics are avoided and the story barrels, blithely toward its superfine chiffon endings with hero and wife giving a champagne party on the Queen Elizabeth and his giving his wife a million--dollar trust Fund. He's off to Europe to write his first novel (this one). The characters invariably come off as types, although the milieu of the affluent is fairly well-sketched though without much edge. Ponder this: the scenes click but the writing's bland and gelatinous.