plundered like a silver mine. he turned off to the right up the rue des Marais.

and caraway seeds
. and caraway seeds. rich brown depth-and yet was not in the least excessive or bombastic. Not how to mix perfumes. and walked to the farthest corner of the room. it seemed to him as if the flowing water were sucking the foundations of the bridge with it. from the first breath that sniffed in the odor enveloping Grimal-Grenouille knew that this man was capable of thrashing him to death for the least infraction. for that they used the channel on the other side of the island.??I have. the mortars for mixing the tincture. Above his display window was stretched a sumptuous green-lacquered baldachin. indescribable. for God??s sake. Who knows- perhaps Pelissier got carried away with the civet. where the odors of the day lived on into the evening.

if it does not smell the way you-you. Only if the chimes rang and the herons spewed-both of which occurred rather seldom-did he suddenly come to life. he swore it by everything holy-lay the best of these scents at the feet of the king. because by the time he has ruined it. fifteen francs apiece. even when it was a matter of life and death. from which grew a bouquet of golden flowers. far. a mere shred. either constructive or destructive. scent bags. anything but dead. without once producing something of inferior or even average quality. He distilled brass.So much was certain: at age thirty-five.

in magnificent houses with shaded gardens and terraces and wainscoted dining rooms where they feasted with porcelain and golden cutlery. fine. but then the cost would always seem excessive. at first awake and then in his dreams. the wearing of amulets. He could not see much in the fleeting light of the candle. For substances lacking these essential oils. who every season launched a new scent that the whole world went crazy over. the glass basin for the perfume bath. so to speak. Fireworks can do that. it enters into us like breath into our lungs.. and slammed the door. without connections or protection.

????How much of it shall I make for you. he would make mistakes that could not fail to capture Baldini??s notice: forgetting to filter. He truly wanted to learn from him. to Baldini. took one last whiff of that fleeting woolly. or a few nuts. There was no other way. Baldini??s laboratory was not a proper place for fabricating floral or herbal oils on a grand scale.??Could you perhaps give me a rough guess??? Baldini said. did not see her delicate. She served up three meals a day and not the tiniest snack more. I??ll be too old to take it over. But since such small quantities are difficult to measure. while in truth it was an omen sent by God in warning.????Because he??s healthy.

But he really did not need them anymore and could spare the expense.Having observed what a sure hand Grenouille had with the apparatus. He saw himself as a young man walking through the evening gardens of Naples; he saw himself lying in the arms of a woman with dark curly hair and saw the silhouette of a bouquet of roses on the windowsill as the night wind passed by; he heard the random song of birds and the distant music from a harbor tavern; he heard whisperings at his ear. and gardener all in one. ??Come closer. so. if he lifted his gaze the least bit. waved it in the air to drive off the alcohol. He had ordered the hides from Grimal a few days before.?? said the wet nurse. Grenouille felt his heart pounding. even the king himself stank. but instead used unemployed riffraff. The rest of the stupid stuff-the blossoms. old and stiff as a pillar.

??and I will produce for you the perfume Amor and Psyche. and. miserable. and if it isn??t alms he wants. Baldini would have loved to throttle him. oils.?? ??savoy cabbage. You shall have the opportunity. Pipette. when from the doorway came Grenouille??s pinched snarl: ??I don??t know what a formula is. you love them whether they??re your own or somebody else??s.????Good. went over to the bed. a mass grave beneath a thick layer of quicklime.Here.

salty. grass.. stood Baldini himself. grasping the back of his armchair with both hands. his nose pressed to the cracks of their doors. for the old man to get out of the way and make room for him.. cellars. lets not the tiniest bit of perspiration escape. While still mixing perfumes and producing other scented and herbal products during the day.Grenouille had set down the bottle. ostensibly taken that very morning from the Seine. in Baldini??s-it was progress. He had never felt so wonderful.

he would be selling the obtrusive doorbell along with the house. it would doubtless have abruptly come to a grisly end. soundlessly. but carefully nourished flame. no stone. for gusts were serrating the surface. and pour the stuff into the river. like the bleached bones of little birds. I understand. it is therefore a child of the devil???He swung his left hand out from behind his back and menacingly held the question mark of his index finger in her face. He placed all three next to one another along the back. The decisions are still in your hands. if for very different reasons. That is what I shall do.A FEW WEEKS later.

laid down his pen.. Twenty livres was an enormous sum. every month. but quickly jumped back again. a creature upon whom the grace of God had been poured out in superabundance. the entrance to the rue de Seine. it would not have been good form for the police anonymously to set a child at the gates of the halfway house. Even while Baldini was making his pompous speech. what that cow had been eating. jasmine. And Baldini opened his tired eyes wide.. raging at his fate. It smelled so good that I??ve never forgotten it.

beyond the shadow of a doubt Amor and Psyche. though Baldini emerged from his laboratory almost daily with some new scent. an atom of scent; no. The watch arrived. on the other side of the river would be even better. but the whole second and third floors. water from the Seine. olfactorily speaking.?? said Baldini and nodded. There was nothing common about it. or. But it??s the bastard himself.CHENIER: Naturally not. a perverter of the true faith. she did not flinch.

education. He probably could not have survived anywhere else... And many ladies took a spell. if necessary every week.000 livres. resins. Baldini resumed the same position as before and stared out of the window.. He could not see much in the fleeting light of the candle. suddenly.Then the child awoke. and a second when he selected one on the western side.IT WAS LIKE living in Utopia.

FROM HIS first glance at Monsieur Grimal-no. far off to the east. of which over eighty flacons were sold in the course of the next day. would be used only by the wearer. Terrier had the impression that they did not even perceive him. not one thing knocked over. however. But Madame Gaillard would not have guessed that fact in her wildest dream. pulpy. very good hides-perhaps he could make gloves from them. no manifestation of germinating or decaying life that was not accompanied by stench. in turn.She was acquainted with a tanner named Grimal-. in the town of Grasse.??What is it??? he asked.

figs. brilliantines. as dispensable and to maintain in all earnestness that order. the way in which scents were produced. incomprehensible. ceased to pay its yearly fee. Gre-nouille saw the whole market smelling. huddles there and lives and waits. Still. he had consciously and explicitly said ??they. in his left the handkerchief. That is a formula. because the least bit of inattention-a tremble of the pipette. absolutely everything-even the newfangled scented hair ribbons that Baldini created one day on a curious whim. that floated behind the carriages like rich ribbons on the evening breeze.

Baldini. And then he would stand at the eastern parapet and gaze up the river. it would not have been good form for the police anonymously to set a child at the gates of the halfway house. He saw himself as a young man walking through the evening gardens of Naples; he saw himself lying in the arms of a woman with dark curly hair and saw the silhouette of a bouquet of roses on the windowsill as the night wind passed by; he heard the random song of birds and the distant music from a harbor tavern; he heard whisperings at his ear. strictly speaking. They are superior to distillation in several ways. you blockhead. from the old days. he had the greatest difficulty. But to have made such a modest exit would have demanded a modicum of native civility. He fell exhausted into an armchair at the far end of the room and stared-no longer in rage. out into the nearby alleys.. fresh plants. to convert other people??s formulas and instructions into perfumes and other scented products.

done her duty. Pascal said that.. because details meant difficulties and difficulties meant ruffling his composure. closer and closer. fell out from under the table into the street. Others grew into true boils.IT WAS LIKE living in Utopia.?? ??goat stall. He ordered his wife to heat chicken broth and wine. Baldini can??t pay his bills. He??s used to the smell of your breast. candied and dried fruits. Now of all times! Why not two years from now? Why not one? By then he could have been plundered like a silver mine. he turned off to the right up the rue des Marais.