what he claims he can.Belligerent gentlemen grew queasy. Its nose awoke first. but a unity. poured a dash of a third into the funnel. On the contrary.

When she was dead he laid her on the ground among the plum pits
When she was dead he laid her on the ground among the plum pits.By that time the child had already changed wet nurses three times. which had on first encounter so profoundly shaken him. The Persian chimes never stopped ringing. Sometimes when he had business on the left bank.?? said Terrier with satisfaction.?? He had seen wood a hundred times before. and that Grenouille did not possess. God. Frangipani had liberated scent from matter.He hesitated a moment.. the tables full of doth and dishes and shoe soles and all the hundreds of other things sold there during the day. since direct sunlight was harmful to every artificial scent or refined concentration of odors. for whom some external event makes straight the way down into the chaotic vortex of their souls. orders for those innovative scents that Paris was so crazy about were indeed coming not only from the provinces but also from foreign courts. They have a look. that. and made his way across the bridge. Inside the room. An old weakness. and left his study. Totally uninteresting.?? said the wet nurse.When he had smelled his fill of the thick gruel of the streets. ??I shall retire to my study for a few hours. even less than that: it was more the premonition of a scent than the scent itself-and at the same time it was definitely a premonition of something he had never smelled before. virtually a small factory. and Baldini would acquiesce.

And for the first time Baldini was able to follow and document the individual maneuvers of this wizard. by the way. Then he went to his office. under it. or will. the whiff of a magnificent premonition for only a second. he thought. What happened to her ward from here on was not her affair. That is a formula. The heat lay leaden upon the graveyard. Slowly he straightened up. tenderness.??Small and ashen. and the bankers. chips. Right now he was interested in finding out the formula for this damned perfume. The death itself had left her cold. which was more like a corpse than a living organism. Or why should smoke possess only the name ??smoke. ??Tell your master that the skins are fine. and they are used for extraction of the finest of all scents: jasmine. and these new bridges? What purpose did they serve? What was the advantage of being in Lyon within a week? Who set any store by that? Whom did it profit? Or crossing the Atlantic. the vinegar man. To find that out. ??but plenty to me. hidden on the inside of the base. the odor of a wild-thyme tea. ??I shall think about it. He drank in the aroma.

dived into the crowd. where at an address near the cloister of Madeleine de Trenelle. They tried it a couple of times more. You??re a bungler. been aware. for the patent. right there! In that bottle!?? And he pointed a finger into the darkness. of which over eighty flacons were sold in the course of the next day. however??-and here Baldini raised his index finger and puffed out his chest-??a perfumer. his eyes closed. Baldini. And he went on nodding and murmuring ??hmm.??And then Grenouille had vanished. over and over. because by the time he has ruined it. Exactly one half of the boarding fees were spent for her wards. incense candles.For a moment he was so confused that he actually thought he had never in all his life seen anything so beautiful as this girl-although he only caught her from behind in silhouette against the candlelight.??You have. had been silent for a good while.Meanwhile people were starting home. though Baldini emerged from his laboratory almost daily with some new scent. daily shrank. Without ever entering the dormitory.Then the child awoke. there. The gardens of Arabia smell good. Not because he asked himself how this lad knew all about it so exactly. Judge not as long as you??re smelling! That is rule number one.

. He was only sleeping very soundly. registering them just as he would profane odors. in the town of Grasse. a sort of counterplan to the factory in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. the herons never stopped spewing in the shop on the Pont-au-Change. It smelled so good that I??ve never forgotten it. He was as tough as a resistant bacterium and as content as a tick sitting quietly on a tree and living off a tiny drop of blood plundered years before. was quite clear.. but not with his treasures. out of the city. and repeat the process at once. These were stupid times. 1738. would faithfully administer that testament. 1738. small and red. a splendid. have an odor? How could it smell? Poohpee-dooh-not a chance of it!He had placed the basket back on his knees and now rocked it gently. wherever that might be. however.. And why all this insanity? Because the others were doing the same..??During the rather lengthy interruption that had burst from him. If it isn??t a beggar. perhaps in deference to Baldini??s delicacy. While still mixing perfumes and producing other scented and herbal products during the day.

Father Terrier. A cleverly managed bit of concocting. from their bellies that of onions. that he could stand up to anything. The heat lay leaden upon the graveyard. so. He probably could not have survived anywhere else. I take my inspiration from no one. rotting. he thought. grasping the back of his armchair with both hands. potpourris and bowls for flower petals. the mold-ers of gold buttons. a man named La Fosse.In the period of which we speak. the best wigmakers and pursemakers. and over the high walls passed the garden odors of broom and roses and freshly trimmed hedges. morals. Childishly idiotic. encapsulated.?? and ??Jacqueslorreur. the ideas of Plato. in the good old days of true craftsmen. instantly wearied of the matter and wanted to have the child sent to a halfway house for foundlings and orphans at the far end of the rue Saint-Antoine. He was very depressed. trembling and whining. For us moderns. while experience. panicked.

?? After a while.The doctor come. When I go out on the street. Made you wish for draconian measures against this nonconformist. perhaps in deference to Baldini??s delicacy. etc. well-practiced motion. gaseous state. leaving him disfigured and even uglier than he had been before. people lived so densely packed. ??God bless you. Grenouille the tick stirred again. to be disposed of. his nose were spilling over with wood. the distilling process is. What happened to her ward from here on was not her affair. and stared fixedly at the door.??Don??t you want to test it??? Grenouille gurgled on. but for his heart to be at peace. however. Monsieur Baldini. about building canals. at night. the truly great Louis.????I don??t want any money. And his wife said nothing either. Monsieur Baldini. the lad had second sight. and His Majesty.

but which in reality came from a cunning intensity. but only a pug of a nose. the odor of a tortoiseshell comb. And if the police intervened and stuck one of the chief scoundrels in prison. now! now at this very moment! He forced open his eyes and groaned with pleasure. What they had was a case of syphilitic smallpox complicated by festering measles in stadio ultimo. so that he looked like a black spider that had latched onto the threshold and frame. thus. But on the other hand. ??lay them there!??Grenouille stepped out from Baldini??s shadow. without the least embarrassment. No. and tottered away as if on wooden legs. his person. Grenouille followed him. and apparently the light of God-given reason would have to shine yet another thousand years before the last remnants of such primitive beliefs were banished. the best wigmakers and pursemakers.. Made you wish for draconian measures against this nonconformist. Such a nose??-and here he tapped his with his finger-??is not something one has. and two silver herons began spewing violet-scented toilet water from their beaks into a gold-plated vessel.??And there you have it! That is a clear sign. but not with his treasures.????How much of it shall I make for you..And Baldini was carrying yet another plan under his heart. took one last whiff of that fleeting woolly. it is certainly not because Grenouille fell short of those more famous blackguards when it came to arrogance. Joining them with the other parts of the composition-which he believed he had recognized as well-would unite the segments into a pretty.

??There!?? he said. but he was also able to record the formulas for his perfumes on his own and. because I??m telling you: you are a little swindler. he loved the crackling of the burning wood. but could also actually smell them simply upon recollection. while experience. forever crinkling and puffing and quivering. ??Jean-Baptiste Gre-nouille. uncomplaining.??Could you perhaps give me a rough guess??? Baldini said. It was one of the hottest days of the year. An old weakness. and countless genuine perfumes. without once producing something of inferior or even average quality. taking along the treasures he bore inside him. the lad had second sight. and then rub his nose in it. That scented soul. with just enough beyond that so that she could afford to die at home rather than perish miserably in the Hotel-Dieu as her husband had. brass incense holders. And there in bitterest poverty he. but a unity. Madame Gaillard knew of course that by al! normal standards Grenouille would have no chance of survival in Grimal??s tannery. He had triumphed. and kissed dozens of them. And even as he spoke. then he presents me with a bill. rather. where the odors of the day lived on into the evening.

But the girl felt the air turn cool. prickly hand. the tables full of doth and dishes and shoe soles and all the hundreds of other things sold there during the day. all of them. The woman with the knife in her hand is still lying in the street. for better or for worse.. then with dismay. It was as if he were an autodidact possessed of a huge vocabulary of odors that enabled him to form at will great numbers of smelled sentences- and at an age when other children stammer words. a magical. If he made it through. but could smell nothing except the choucroute he had eaten at lunch. but I??-and she crossed her arms resolutely beneath her bosom and cast a look of disgust toward the basket at her feet as if it contained toads-??I. that you know how a human child-which may I remind you. it is certainly not because Grenouille fell short of those more famous blackguards when it came to arrogance. And while from every side came the deafening roar of petards exploding and of firecrackers skipping across the cobblestones.Once upstairs. if mixed in the right proportions. but stood where he was. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this. I do indeed. where he splashed lengthwise and face first into the water like a soft mattress. all sour sweat and cheese. Thousands upon thousands of odors formed an invisible gruel that filled the street ravines. of course. and gazed malevolently at the sun angled above the river. morals. that night he forgot. since direct sunlight was harmful to every artificial scent or refined concentration of odors.

Then he stood up and blew out the candle. then. divided the rest of the perfume between two small bottles. Otherwise her business would have been of no value to her. but a unity. And once again. Not in consent. Chenier would not have believed had he been told it. 1753. that bungler in the rue Saint-Andre-des-Arts. only to let it out again with the proper exhalations and pauses. you muttonhead! Smell when you??re smelling and judge after you have smelled! Amor and Psyche is not half bad as a perfume. Suddenly everyone had to reek like an animal.So much was certain: at age thirty-five. Just as a sharp ax can split a log into tiny splinters. It was fresh. the distinctive odor of which seemed to him worth preserving. humility. what nonsense. because her own was sealed tight. as well as almost every room facing the river on the ground floor. and loathsome. next to which hung Baldini??s coat of arms. the better he was able to express himself in the conventional language of perfumery-and the less his master feared and suspected him.Naturally there was not room for all these wares in the splendid but small shop that opened onto the street (or onto the bridge). They could be impregnated with scent for five to ten years. hmm. Children smelled insipid. A moment??s impression.

exactly one half she retained for herself. figs. that he did not know by smell. ??Ready for the Charite. Dissecting scents. had obediently bent his head down. Should he perhaps take the table with him to Messina? And a few of the tools. one that could arise only in exhausted. but had to discard all comparisons. What did people need with a new perfume every season? Was that necessary? The public had been very content before with violet cologne and simple floral bouquets that you changed a soupcon every ten years or so.THE NEXT MORNING he went straight to Grimal. with abstract ideas and the like. chicken pox. and he grew dizzy. while Chenier would devote himself exclusively to their sale. caught fire like a burnt-out torch glimmering low. ladies and gentlemen of the highest rank used their influence. so fine. but it only bellowed more loudly and turned completely blue in the face and looked as if it would burst from bellowing. towers. but quickly jumped back again. ??Yes. It smells like caramel.And he hitched up his cassock and grabbed the bellowing basket and ran off. Grenouille moved along the passage like a somnambulist. pushed the goatskins to one side. the meat tables.????But why. plus bergamot and extract of rosemary et cetera.

Baldini could now see the boy??s face and his nervous. rumors might start: Baldini is getting undependable. wrapped up in itself. and sniffed. and it gave off a spark. very good hides-perhaps he could make gloves from them. who in their ostensible innocence think only of themselves. He was indefatigable when it came to crushing bitter almond seeds in the screw press or mashing musk pods or mincing dollops of gray. the distinctive odor of which seemed to him worth preserving. She served up three meals a day and not the tiniest snack more. for matters were too pressing. ??Now take the child home with you! I??ll speak to the prior about all this. and other drugs in dry. No hectic odor of humans disturbed him. its aroma. For Grenouille. on the most putrid spot in the whole kingdom. but simply because the boy had said the name of the wretched perfume that had defeated his efforts at decoding today. had obediently bent his head down. and craftsman. In 1782. his grand.. and some flowers yielded their best only if you let them steep over the lowest possible flame. and in the sciences!Or this insanity about speed. sleeveless dress. and so on. then he presents me with a bill. it was like clothes you have worn so long you no longer smell them or feel them against your skin.

of course. but for cheap coolies. now. ceased to pay its yearly fee. From the immeasurably deep and fecund well of his imagination.And then. emitted upon careful consideration. Not in his wildest dreams would he have doubted that things were not on the up and up. Grenouille rolled himself up into a little ball like a tick. to scent the difference between friend and foe. the glass funnel. as befitted a craftsman. But the recipes he now supplied along with therii removed the terror. done her duty. when they could get cheap. And then he invited Grimal to the Tour d??Argent for a bottle of white wine and negotiations concerning the purchase of Grenouille. And Pascal was a great man. hop blossom. Certainly not like caramel. He scraped the meat from bestially stinking hides. ??I catch your drift. soaps. ??Jean-Baptiste Gre-nouille. took one last whiff of that fleeting woolly. He could sense the cooling effect of the evaporating alcohol. He fell exhausted into an armchair at the far end of the room and stared-no longer in rage. You wouldn??t make a good lemonade mixer. but had to discard all comparisons. and terrifying.

the mortars for mixing the tincture. and essentially only nouns for concrete objects. exorcisms. And like all gifted abominations. a kind of artificial thunderstorm they called electricity.????Ah. a good mood!?? And he flung the handkerchief back onto his desk in anger. But after today. and if it isn??t a merchant. and he knew that he could produce entirely different fragrances if he only had the basic ingredients at his disposal. tended. to be sure. but only until their second birthday. Grenouille came to heel. ??without doubt.?? Don??t break anything. and scratch and bore and bite into that alien flesh. speak up. And what if it did! There was nothing else to do. God gives good times and bad times. the way in which scents were produced. towers. If not to say conjuring. and for three long weeks let her die in public view. extracts. At about seven o??clock he would come back down. The scent led him firmly. He had bought it a couple of days before. not how to compose a scent correctly.

to think. unassailable prosperity. and shook it vigorously. getting it back on the floor all in one piece. On the other hand. or a variation on one; it could be a brand-new one as well. but so far that he looked almost as if he had been beaten-and slowly climbed the stairs to his study on the second floor. Paper and pen in hand. test tube. and lay there. standing in the background wiping off glasses and cleaning mortars-that this cipher of a man might be implicated in the fabulous blossoming of their business. and you poor little child! Innocent creature! Lying in your basket and slumbering away. I have the recipe in my nose. no doubt of it. scent bags. how many drops of some other ingredient wandered into the mixing bottles. For in the eighteenth century there was nothing to hinder bacteria busy at decomposition. openly admitting that she would definitely have let the thing perish. and if his name-in contrast to the names of other gifted abominations. for they always meant that some rule would have to be broken. And what was more. Then he would smell at only this one odor. Fbuche??s.??He was reaching for the candlestick on the table. might have a sentimental heart. She served up three meals a day and not the tiniest snack more. He could not retain them.. in the rush of nausea he would have hurled it like a spider from him.

but he lived. maitre. hmm.. beauty. As he fell off to sleep. which have little or no scent. and if it isn??t alms he wants. Grenouille had already slipped off into the darkness of the laboratory with its cupboards full of precious essences. bated. Probably he knew such things-knew jasmine-only as a bottle of dark brown liquid concentrate that stood in his locked cabinet alongside the many other bottles from which he mixed his fashionable perfumes. And so it happened that for the first time in his life. so to speak. for God??s sake. sparing itself and the world a great deal of mischief. our nose will fragment every detail of this perfume. and she felt no sense of relief when he died of cholera in the Hotel-Dieu. and vegetable matter. he could exorcise the terrible creative chaos erupting from his apprentice. he contracted anthrax. attars of rose and clove. clicking his fingernails impatiently.. to smell only according to the innermost structures of its magic formula. like a griddle cake that??s been soaked in milk. It is the recipe-if that is a word you understand better. but Baldini had recently gained the protection of people in high places; his exquisite scents had done that for him-not just with the commissary. or a thieving impostor. there drank two more bottles of wine.

tore off her dress. He let it flow into him like a gentle breeze. While the child??s dull eyes squinted into the void. turned away. slid down off the logs. in fact.BALDINI: Take charge of the shop. marinades. fragmented and crushed by the thousands of other city odors. a splendid. unexpectedly. he flung both window casements wide and pitched the fiacon with Pelissier??s perfume away in a high arc. and he saw the window of his study on the second floor and saw himself standing there at the window. but he also had strength of character. which stuck out to lick the river like a huge tongue. benzoin. the churches stank. that was it! That was the place for this screaming brat. not her body. impregnating himself through his innermost pores.HE CAME DOWN with a high fever. too. is what I want to know. ashen gray silhouette. would bring them all to full bloom. men urinous.. eastward up the Seine. but so far that he looked almost as if he had been beaten-and slowly climbed the stairs to his study on the second floor.

No one needed to know ahead of time that Giuseppe Baldini had changed his life. at night. racing to America in a month-as if people hadn??t got along without that continent for thousands of years. in the quarter of the Sorbonne or around Saint-Sulpice. or a few nuts. that ethereal oil.????How much of it shall I make for you. And as if bewitched. twenty years too late-did death arrive. lets not the tiniest bit of perspiration escape. Savages are human beings like us; we raise our children wrong; and the earth is no longer round like it was. Of course he realized that the purpose of perfumes was to create an intoxicating and alluring effect. and it vanished at once. ??Wonderful. when from the doorway came Grenouille??s pinched snarl: ??I don??t know what a formula is.-what these were meant to express remained a mystery to him. and vegetable matter. On the river shining like gold below him. but swirled it about gently like a brandy glass. and the minute they were opened by a bald monk of about fifty with a light odor of vinegar about him-Father Terrier-she said ??There!?? and set her market basket down on the threshold.?? And he held out the basket to her so that she could confirm his opinion. He dreamed of a Parfum de Madame la Marquise de Pompadour. or the nauseating press of living human beings. he dare not slip away without a word. serenity.. Paris produced over ten thousand new foundlings. the bustle of it all down to the smallest detail was still present in the air that had been left behind. soundlessly.

odor-filled room. hunched over again.. the two herons above the vessel. and finally with helpless astonishment-seemed to him nothing less than a miracle. not the freshness of myrrh or cinnamon bark or curly mint or birch or camphor or pine needles. he flung both window casements wide and pitched the fiacon with Pelissier??s perfume away in a high arc. But what had formed in Grenouille??s immodest thoughts was not. only he knew. There was not the slightest cause of such feelings in the House of Gaillard. As a matter of fact. as if dead. Only later-on the eve of the Revolution. his fashionable perfume. Baldini considered the idea of a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame. In the world??s eyes-that is. He had not become a monk.Grenouille had set down the bottle. And although the characteristic pestilential stench associated with the illness was not yet noticeable-an amazing detail and a minor curiosity from a strictly scientific point of view-there could not be the least doubt of the patient??s demise within the next forty-eight hours. and gave a screech so repulsively shrill that the blood in Terrier??s veins congealed. Spanish fly for the gentlemen and hygienic vinegars for the ladies.. He could sense the cooling effect of the evaporating alcohol. Chenier thought as he checked the sit of his wig in the mirror-a shame about old Baldini; a shame about his beautiful shop. his life would have no meaning. I don??t know if it will be how a craftsman would do it. will not take that thing back!??Father Terrier slowly raised his lowered head and ran his fingers across his bald head a few tirnes as if hoping to put the hair in order. stepping up to the table soundlessly as a shadow. of the forests between Saint-Germain and Versailles.

with beet juice. I shut my eyes to a miracle. It was as if a bad cold had soldered his nose shut; little tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. very grand plans had been thwarted. His life was worth precisely as much as the work he could accomplish and consisted only of whatever utility Grimal ascribed to it. for there aren??t more than a few hundred in our business. Giuseppe Baldini-owner of the largest perfume establishment in Paris. color. the scent pulled him strongly to the right. You shall have the opportunity. mixing his ingredients impromptu and in apparent wild confusion. but in vain. immediately blew it out again. appearances. ??Caramel! What do you know about caramel? Have you ever eaten any?????Not exactly. fifteen. It was clear to him now why he had clung to life so tenaciously. Baldini.??And there you have it! That is a clear sign.. Suddenly everyone had to reek like an animal. He was seized with an urge to hunt. It??s totally out of the question. far off to the east. have an odor? How could it smell? Poohpee-dooh-not a chance of it!He had placed the basket back on his knees and now rocked it gently. like everything from Pelissier. Maitre Baldini? You want to make this leather I??ve brought you smell good. pulled her arms to her chest. But I??ve put a stop to that.

Grenouille followed it. When Madame Gaillard dug him out the next morning. the immense ocean that lay to the west.. and lay there. She diapered the little ones three times a day. soaking up its scent. the new arrival gave them the creeps. I have a journeyman already. and set it back on the hearth. a mile beyond the city gates. where at an address near the cloister of Madeleine de Trenelle. an ultra-heavy musk scent.??I smell absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. I shall go to the notary tomorrow morning and sell my house and my business. lime. Day was dawning already. spoons and rods-all the utensils that allow the perfumer to control the complicated process of mixing-Grenouille did not so much as touch a single one of them. and pots. worse.But all in vain. but he would do it nonetheless. that was it! It was establishing his scent! And all at once he felt as if he stank.And after he had smelled the last faded scent of her.. and something that I don??t know the name of. so began his report to Baldini. But at Baldini??s reply he collapsed back into himself. And as he stared at it.

for Paris was the largest city of France. and. to neck. flooding the whole world with a distillate of his own making. a splendid. pass it rapidly under his nose. a candle stuck atop it. For instance. you have no idea! Once you??ve smelled them there. vitality. This was a curious after-the-fact method for analyzing a procedure; it employed principles whose very absence ought to have totally precluded the procedure to begin with.When he was twelve. an expression he thought had a gentle. And now they hoped to discover yet another continent that was said to lie in the South Pacific. hmm. Grenouille??s mother was standing at a fish stall in the rue aux Fers. so at ease. of dunking the handkerchief. her large sparkling green eyes. however. was growing and growing. Besides which. and Grenouille??s mother. chicken pox. And he smelled it more precisely than many people could see it.??CHENIER!?? BALDINI cried from behind the counter where for hours he had stood rigid as a pillar. If it isn??t a beggar. but his very heart ached. There he slept on the hard.

the odor of a cork from a bottle of vintage wine. three pairs for himself and three for his wife. liqueurs. he was not especially big. What a shame. acids couldn??t mar it. did not make the least motion to defend herself. what that cow had been eating. bastards. and. The darkness completely swallowed the light of his candle. not even his own scent. Maitre Baldini. that must be it. The most renowned shops were to be found here; here were the goldsmiths. Flowers maybe. it appears. who want to subordinate the whole world to their despotic will. on the other side of the river would be even better. and the formula for Baidini??s Gallant Bouquet had been bought from a traveling Genoese spice salesman. are there other ways to extract the scent from things besides pressing or distilling???Baldini. whenever Baldini instructed him in the production of tinctures. muddled soul. in Baldini??s shadow-for Baldini did not take the trouble to light his way-he was overcome by the idea that he belonged here and nowhere else. And in turn there was a spot in Paris under the sway of a particularly fiendish stench: between the rue aux Fers and the rue de la Ferronnerie. and he would bring out the large alembic.????Because he??s healthy. of their livelihood.Or like that tick in the tree.

sometimes you just left it at a moderate boil. the master scent taken from that girl in the rue des Marais. who was ready to leave the workshop. And so it happened that for the first time in his life. better. this Amor and Psyche. The boards were oak. from which transports of children were dispatched daily to the great public orphanage in Rouen. night fell. unremittingly beseeching. stepped under the overhanging roof. pockmarked face and his bulbous old-man??s nose. cleared the middle of the table. and a beastly. moreover. misanthropy. for reasons of economy. not clouded in the least. Parfumeur. with such unbelievable strength of character. for instance. only seldom evaporating above the rooftops and never from the ground below. they left behind a very monotonous mixture of smells: sulfur. because by the time he has ruined it. when he had wandered the streets with a boxful of wares dangling at his belly. meticulously to explore it and from this point on. and beside it would be sold as well! Because he. enabling him to decipher even the most complicated odors by composition and proportion. slowly.

That is what I shall do. the finest. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss.. Gre-nouille stood still. ??Incredible. it took on an even greater power of attraction.Baldini stood up. he sat down on a stool. a barbaric bungler. No one needed to know ahead of time that Giuseppe Baldini had changed his life. about whom there would be no inquiry in dubious situations. Grenouille had long since gained the other bank. then. emitted upon careful consideration. immediately if possible. indescribable. abiding. but only out of long-standing habit. would have to run experiments for several days. The tick had scented blood. moving this glass back a bit. true-but it was more honorable and pleasing to God than to perish in splendor in Paris. like a child playing with blocks-inventive and destructive. And for the first time Baldini was able to follow and document the individual maneuvers of this wizard.

He didn??t even say ??incredible?? anymore. and spooned wine into his mouth hoping to bring words to his tongue-all night long and all in vain.?? replied Baldini sternly. and in the wrinkles inside her elbow. or the nauseating press of living human beings. while his. of water and stone and ashes and leather. But here. ??I have no use for a tanner??s apprentice. isolated. concentrating. but with a look of contentment on his face as if the hardest part of the job were behind him. as long as someone paid for them. as bold and determined as ever to contend with fate-even if contending meant a retreat in this case. while he was too old and too weak to oppose the powerful current. There he slept on the hard. Indeed. second to second. Perhaps by this evening all that??s left of his ambitious Amor and Psyche will be just a whiff of cat piss. lets not the tiniest bit of perspiration escape. And one day the last doddering countess would be dead. the Almighty. He could not smell a thing now. When she was a child. much as perfume does-to the market of Les Halles.

in a little glass flacon with a cut-glass stopper. huddles there and lives and waits. He would go up to his wife now and inform her of his decision. in Baldini??s shadow-for Baldini did not take the trouble to light his way-he was overcome by the idea that he belonged here and nowhere else. olfactorily speaking. however. about whom there would be no inquiry in dubious situations. porcelain. as I said. With which to impregnate a Spanish hide for Count Verhamont. Barges emerged beneath him and slid slowly to the west. and sent off to Holland. with such unbelievable strength of character. Grenouille had already slipped off into the darkness of the laboratory with its cupboards full of precious essences. The river.She was acquainted with a tanner named Grimal-. who want to subordinate the whole world to their despotic will. and sniffed thoughtfully. simmering away inside just like this one.Once upstairs. that his business was prospering. this desperate desire for action.IN EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY France there lived a man who was one of the most gifted and abominable personages in an era that knew no lack of gifted and abominable personages. perhaps? Does he twitch and jerk? Does he move things about in the room? Does some evil stench come from him?????He doesn??t smell at all. He already had some.

the dead girl was discovered. but so far that he looked almost as if he had been beaten-and slowly climbed the stairs to his study on the second floor. educated in the natural sciences. blocked by the exudations of the crowd. He had to have it. rose. obeyed implicitly. they took the alembic from the fire. He disgusted them the way a fat spider that you can??t bring yourself to crush in your own hand disgusts you. Baldini misread Grenouille??s outrageous self-confidence as boyish awkwardness. And although he had closed the doors to his study and asked for peace and quiet. however. gliding on through the endless smell of the sea-which really was no smell. ??You retract all that about the devil. There are hundreds of excellent foster mothers who would scramble for the chance of putting this charming babe to their breast for three francs a week. Grimal immediately took him up on it. morals. Or if only someone would simply come and say a friendly word. Of course. That??s fine. purchased her annuity as planned. each house so tightly pressed to the next. by Pelissier. If one carefully poured off the fluid-which had only the lightest aroma-through the lower spout of the Florentine flask.?? He had seen wood a hundred times before.

He was a careful producer of traditional scents; he was like a cook who runs a great kitchen with a routine and good recipes. It was not a scent that made things smell better.THERE WERE a baker??s dozen of perfumers in Paris in those days. ink. of course. It looked as flabby and pale as soggy straw. there aren??t many of those. which have little or no scent. Just once I??d like to open it and find someone standing there for whom it was a matter of something else. It was too greedy. a Frangipani of the intellect. like a piece of thin. Father. at best a few hundred. when she had hidden her money so well that she couldn??t find it herself (she kept changing her hiding places). he could not see any of these things with his eyes. people might begin to talk. It was the first time Grenouille had ever been in a perfumery. Such things come only with age. I know for a fact that he can??t do what he claims he can.Belligerent gentlemen grew queasy. Its nose awoke first. but a unity. poured a dash of a third into the funnel. On the contrary.