He mentally reviewed all of these objects, not letting a single one
escape his inventory. Things that he had forgotten came surging up in
his memory, and the fear of losing them seemed to give them greater
lustre, increasing their size, and intensifying their value. All the
riches of Villeblanche were concentrated in one certain acquisition
which Desnoyers admired most of all; for, to his mind, it stood for
all the glory of his immense fortune--in fact, the most luxurious
appointment that even a millionaire could possess.
"My golden bath," he thought. "I have there my tub of gold."
This bath of priceless metal he had procured, after much financial
wrestling, from an auction, and he considered the purchase the
culminating achievement of his wealth. No one knew exactly its origin;
perhaps it had been the property of luxurious princes; perhaps it owed
its existence to the caprice of a demi-mondaine fond of display. He and
his had woven a legend around this golden cavity adorned with lions'
claws, dolphins and busts of naiads. Undoubtedly it was once a king's!
Chichi gravely affirmed that it had been Marie Antoinette's, and the
entire family thought that the home on the avenue Victor Hugo was
altogether too modest and plebeian to enshrine such a jewel. They
therefore agreed to put it in the castle, where it was greatly
venerated, although it was useless and solemn as a museum piece.
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