"Very good," answered Dumas, amused at Porcher's naïve request. "Wilt thou lend me fifty louis, Porcher?"
"Nothing," says Villemessant, "was more odious to him than avarice, which was entirely repugnant to his own nature." Leaving a soirée one evening Dumas found himself side by side in the cloakroom with an archi-millionaire who, in exchange for his paletot gave fifty centimes (fivepence) to the servant.
The writer, blushing with shame for the financier, drew out his purse and threw down a hundred-franc note.
"Pardon, sir, you have made a mistake, I think?" said the lackey, offering to return the note.
"No, no, friend," answered Dumas, casting a disdainful glance at the millionaire; "it is the other gentleman who has made the mistake."
But Dumas's extravagance, so far as his own pleasure and glorification were concerned, has been much exaggerated. We have seen, ourselves, that the palace of "Monte Cristo" was neither so big, so gaudy, nor so costly as has been represented. Again, Maxime du Camp refutes the charge that Dumas lived in luxury at Naples, declaring that the great man worked there in modest rooms, poorly furnished. "People," he adds, "spread false reports because slander is the first need of fools."
