He placed the box on the counter, pushed back a pair of small hooks, lifted the lid and removed from its nest a drinking-vessel larger than a common cup, yet not of exorbitant size, and formed, to appearance, either of old fine gold or of some material once richly gilt.

He handled it with tenderness, with ceremony, making a place for it on a small satin mat.
"My Golden Bowl," he observed--and it sounded, on his lips, as if it said everything.

He left the important object--for as "important" it did somehow present itself--to produce its certain effect.

Simple, but singularly elegant, it stood on a circular foot, a short pedestal with a slightly spreading base, and, though not of signal depth, justified its title by the charm of its shape as well as by the tone of its surface.
It might have been a large goblet diminished, to the enhancement of its happy curve, by half its original height.

As formed of solid gold it was impressive; it seemed indeed to warn off the prudent admirer.