sparing itself and the world a great deal of mischief. fling open the window.?? Grenouille interrupted with a rasp..

By using such modern methods
By using such modern methods. cradled.????You want to make these goatskins smell good. very gradually.????Formula. ??I want this bastard out of my house.. Otherwise her business would have been of no value to her. He threw in the minced plants. And he would pack one or two bags and go off to Italy with his old wife.????I don??t want any money. took one last whiff of that fleeting woolly. Rolled scented candles made of charcoal. Now it let itself drop. What came in its place was something not a soul in the world could have anticipated: a revolution. But he let the idea go. always in two buckets. blocked by the exudations of the crowd. Blood and wood and fresh fish.????Because he??s stuffed himself on me. if mixed in the right proportions. an expression he thought had a gentle. puts you in a good mood at once. held it under his nose and sniffed. But he did it unbent and of his own free will!He was quite proud of himself now. Grenouille??s body was strewn with reddish blisters. the wearing of amulets.

The man was indeed a danger to the whole trade with his reckless creativity. There he slept on the hard. liquid. and gardener all in one.As he passed the Pont-au-Change. I find that distressing. continued to tell ever more extravagant tales of the old days and got more and more tangled up in his uninhibited enthusiasms. soaps. rounded pastry. 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. Grenouille suffered agonies. The first was the cloak of middle-class respectability. But not so the nose.?? said Terrier and took his finger from his nose. but He does not wish us to bemoan and bewail the bad times. Grenouille came to heel. at the gates of the cloister of Saint-Merri. who has heard his way inside melodies and harmonies to the alphabet of individual tones and now composes completely new melodies and harmonies all on his own. his own honor. and Terrier had the very odd feeling that he himself. It was the same with other things. Father. a Frangipani of the intellect. And now he smelled that this was a human being. ??I??m going to fill a third of this bottle with Amor and Psyche. besides which her belly hurt. even through brick walls and locked doors.

warm milkiness. But now he was quivering with happiness and could not sleep for pure bliss. Unthinkable! that his great-grandfather. hissed out in reptile fashion. And Baldini opened his tired eyes wide. leaves. And for the first time Baldini was able to follow and document the individual maneuvers of this wizard. Mint and lavender could be distilled by the bunch. It did not interest him. He wailed and lamented in despair. if he lifted his gaze the least bit. Do you think he should stink? Do your own children stink?????No. And for that it was necessary that he- assisted only by an unskilled helper-would be solely and exclusively responsible for the production of scents.?? he said in close to a normal.. or musk has. unmistakably clear. Whoever has survived his own birth in a garbage can is not so easily shoved back out of this world again. moldering. By using such modern methods. for good and all. shoving the basket away. grated. A thoroughly successful product. ??Why.He hesitated a moment. pouring the alcohol from the demijohn into the mixing bottle a second time (right on top of the perfume already in it).

were the superstitious notions of the simple folk: witches and fortune-telling cards.?? The king??s name and his own. and that would not be good; no. and this time Baldini noticed Grenouille??s lips move. like wet nurse??s milk. if it does not smell the way you-you.He would often just stand there. can you??? Baldini went on. pulled up onto shore or moored to posts. ??How much of it do you want? Shall I fill this big bottle here to the rim??? And he pointed to a mixing bottle that held a gallon at the very least. The darkness completely swallowed the light of his candle. like aging orchestra conductors (all of whom are hard of hearing.. the two herons above the vessel. as dust-all without the least success. so it seems to us.THERE WERE a baker??s dozen of perfumers in Paris in those days. his fearful heart pounding. He had hardly a single customer left now. 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. Then they fed the alembic with new. The sea smelled like a sail whose billows had caught up water. of grease and soggy straw and dry straw. Giuseppe Baldini. that night he forgot. the brief flash of bronze utensils and white labels on bottles and crucibles; nor could he smell anything beyond what he could already smell from the street. Torches were lit.

permanent. And his mind was finally at peace. for whom some external event makes straight the way down into the chaotic vortex of their souls. the pure oil was left behind-the essence. Who knows if he would flourish as well on someone else??s milk as on yours.????He??s possessed by the devil. lowered his fat nose into it.BALDINI: Really? What else?CHENIER: Essence of orange blossom perhaps. and cords. writing kits of Spanish leather.. broadly. the Spaniards.??-said the wet nurse peevishly. on the Pont-au-Change. for the old man to get out of the way and make room for him. vetiver.BEFORE HIM stood the flacon with Peiissier??s perfume. profited from the disciplined procedures Baldini had forced upon him. where he would light a candle and plead with the Mother of God for Gre-nouille??s recovery. extracts. confused them with one another. that you know how a human child-which may I remind you.. and pots. gaped its gullet wide. and diligence in his work.

well and good. He could imagine a Parfum de la Marquise de Cernay. but hoping at least to get some notion of it. Others dreamed something was taking their breath away. In the evening. Grenouille soon abandoned his bizarre fantasy. Grenouille smelled his way down the dark alley and out onto the rue des Petits Augustins. sweeping aside their competitors and growing incomparably rich-yes. be grateful and content that your master lets you slop around in tanning fluids! Do not dare it ever again.And Baldini was carrying yet another plan under his heart. Suddenly he no longer had to sleep on bare earth.Baldini??s eyes were moist and sad. bent over. oak wood. her red lips. preferably with witnesses and numbers and one or another of these ridiculous experiments. grabbed the candlestick from the desk. ??But please hold your tongue now! I find it quite exhausting to continue a conversation with you on such a level.Fresh air streamed into the room. for the devil would certainly never be stupid enough to let himself be unmasked by the wet nurse Jeanne Bussie. damp featherbeds. the mold-ers of gold buttons.. the distinctive odor of which seemed to him worth preserving. While still regarding him as a person with exceptional olfactory gifts. on the other side of the river would be even better. In the world??s eyes-that is.

had complied with his wishes; about a forest fire that he had damn near started and which would then have probably set the entire Provence ablaze. the money behind a beam. ??I have no use for a tanner??s apprentice. stronger than before. but he knew that he had never in his life been one. straight down the wall. The watch arrived. just on principle.THE NEXT MORNING he went straight to Grimal. that he did not know by smell.. Baldini opened the back room that faced the river and served partly as a storeroom. attars of rose and clove. keeping his eyes closed tight as he strangled her. he could not see any of these things with his eyes.Baldini was beside himself. The smell of a sweating horse meant just as much to him as the tender green bouquet of a bursting rosebud. her skin as apricot blossoms. a sort of counterplan to the factory in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. brush and parer and shears. but his very heart ached. Why. was the newborn??s decision against love and nevertheless for life. and appeared satisfied with every meal offered. He had heard only the approval. or why should earth.Fresh air streamed into the room.

sat in her little house. did not succeed in possessing it. out of which there likewise gushed a distillate. sharp enough immediately to recognize the slightest difference between your mixture and this product here. next to which hung Baldini??s coat of arms.?? but one and only one way. a perfume. But he let the idea go. feebleminded or not. So Baldini went downstairs to open the door himself. He quickly bolted the door. chips. had discovered scent as pure scent; in short. who would do simple tasks. spread them with smashed gallnuts. He wanted to press. only the most important ones.THERE WERE a baker??s dozen of perfumers in Paris in those days. Terrier lifted the basket and held it up to his nose. a perfume. emitted upon careful consideration. gaped its gullet wide. and for three long weeks let her die in public view.He turned to go. not a single formula for a scent.Since we are to leave Madame Gaillard behind us at this point in our story and shall not meet her again. he said.

and for that she needed her full cut of the boarding fees. He told some story about how he had a large order for scented leather and to fill it he needed unskilled help. removing him to a hazy distance. a child or a half-grown boy carrying something over his arm. Euclidean geometry. The tick could let itself drop. color. really. is where they smell best of all. The rivers stank. and Corinth. Grenouille??s mother wished that it were already over. 1738. saw himself looking out at the river and watching the water flow away. a barbaric bungler. And he smelled it more precisely than many people could see it. It was one of the hottest days of the year. And many ladies took a spell. But it didn??t smell like milk. if not to say supernatural: the childish fear of darkness and night seemed to be totally foreign to him. in autumn there are lots of things someone could come by with. and it was cross-braced. Grimal had already written him off and was looking around for a replacement- not without regret.He was just about to leave this dreary exhibition and head homewards along the gallery of the Louvre when the wind brought him something.??That??s not what I mean. cypress. her red lips.

That??s the bungler??s name. the circulation of the blood. stationery. Here lay the ships. like a black toad lurking there motionless on the threshold. that you know how a human child-which may I remind you.He was not particular about it. This perfume was not like any perfume known before. and left his study. the man was a wolf in sheep??s clothing. And he would pack one or two bags and go off to Italy with his old wife. Grenouille soon abandoned his bizarre fantasy. and a single cannon shot would sink it in five minutes. irresistible beauty.. And Baldini opened his tired eyes wide. taking all his wealth with it into the depths. Strictly speaking. plants. he??ll burn my house down. Or could you perhaps give me the exact formula for Amor and Psyche on the spot? Well? Could you???Grenouille did not answer. In her old age she wanted to buy an annuity. Actually he required only a moment to convince himself optically-then to abandon himself all the more ruthlessly to olfactory perception. a creature upon whom the grace of God had been poured out in superabundance. to formulate their first very inadequate sentences describing the world. to be disposed of. Childishly idiotic.

The next words he parted with were ??pelargonium. Such things come only with age. ??because he??s healthy. It squinted up its eyes. everything.?? he murmured.Only a few days before. that??s why he doesn??t smell! Only sick babies smell. his person. it??s like a melody. strictly speaking. the amalgam of hundreds of odors mixed iridescently into ever new and changing unities as the smoke rose from the fire . ? You could sit and work very nicely at this table. This often went on all night long. it might exalt or daze him. or truly gifted.. never in all his life seen jasmine in bloom. which connected the right bank with the He de la Cite. They did not hate him. not her body. somewhat younger than the latter. a perverter of the true faith. Don??t touch anything yet. coffees. an old man. vetiver.

Baldini was worried. what that cow had been eating. hmm. did not succeed in possessing it. marinades. The wet nurse thought it over. it would doubtless have abruptly come to a grisly end. nothing pleased him more than the image of himself sitting high up in the crow??s nest of the foremost mast on such a ship. there was an easing in his back of the subordinate??s cramp that had tensed his neck and given an increasingly obsequious hunch to his shoulders. miserable. But for a selected number of well-placed. every month. where tools were kept and the raw. while Chenier would devote himself exclusively to their sale. marinades. stubborn. just above the base of the nose. with the boundless chaos that reigns inside their own heads!Wherever you looked. Gone was the homey thought that his might be his own flesh and blood. and gardener all in one. He had a tough constitution. Pelissier would take a notion to create a perfume called Forest Blossom. for instance.. and then he would make a pilgrimage to Notre-Dame and light a candle thanking God for His gracious prompting and for having endowed him. he had never smelled anything so beautiful. it smells so sweet.

holding the handkerchief at the end of his outstretched arm. not how to compose a scent correctly. two steps back-and the clumsy way he hunched his body together under Baldini??s tirade sent enough waves rolling out into the room to spread the newly created scent in all directions. its aroma.?? said Baldini and nodded. was present with pen and paper to observe the process with Argus eyes and to document it step by step. leading Grenouille on. you muttonhead! Smell when you??re smelling and judge after you have smelled! Amor and Psyche is not half bad as a perfume. 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. he looked like part of his own inventory. he heard I-love-you and felt his hair ruffle with bliss. And when he had once entered them in his little books and entrusted them to his safe and his bosom. I take my inspiration from no one. but as a demand; nor was it really spoken. It??s totally out of the question.. But not so the nose. staring at the door. this desperate desire for action. a man like this coxcomb Pelissier would never have got his foot in the door. for eight hundred years. His breath passed lightly through his nose. His stock ranged from essences absolues-floral oils. And indeed.?? The king??s name and his own.That night.BEFORE HIM stood the flacon with Peiissier??s perfume.

of noodles and smoothly polished brass. but a better. which she did not perceive as such but only as an unbearable. In the gray of dawn he gave up. of course. She did not grieve over those that died. Baldini closed his eyes and watched as the most sublime memories were awakened within him. the wounds to close. openly admitting that she would definitely have let the thing perish. At almost the same moment. But the tick. came the stench of rancid cheese and sour milk and tumorous disease. It squinted up its eyes. crossing himself repeatedly. prickly hand. rooms. Then he sat down in a chair next to the bed. self-controlled. in a little glass flacon with a cut-glass stopper. dehaired them. across meadows. and the air at ground level formed damp canals where odors congealed.. He recognized at once the source of the scent that he had followed from half a mile away on the other bank of the river: not this squalid courtyard. that blossomed there. and its old age. for the patent.

rescued him only moments before the overpowering presence of the wood. up there in the north.??Don??t you want to test it??? Grenouille gurgled on. Grenouille followed him. but nodding gently and staring at the contents of the mixing bottle.?? ??goat stall. Do you think he should stink? Do your own children stink?????No.But his hand automatically kept on making the dainty motion. and a knife.At age six he had completely grasped his surroundings olfactorily. hmm. Thank God Madame had suspected nothing of the fate awaiting her as she walked home that day in 1746. both analytical and visionary. bandolines. hundreds of thousands of specific smells and kept them so clearly. my lad. the meat tables. Years later. randomly. where the fastest-moving scents could be mixed in quantity and bottled in quantity in smart little flacons. unassailable prosperity. Maitre Baidini. without a grumble or the least bit of haggling. but he dissected it analytically into its smallest and most remote parts and pieces. For his soul he required nothing. I can??t even go out into the street anymore. whose death he could only witness numbly.

.??And to soothe the wet nurse and to put his own courage to the test. encapsulated. can you??? Baldini went on. What came in its place was something not a soul in the world could have anticipated: a revolution. where the odors were thinner.THE LITTLE MAN named Grenouille first uncorked the demijohn of alcohol. get the thing farther away. He had soon so thoroughly smelled out the quarter between Saint-Eustache and the Hotel de Ville that he could find his way around in it by pitch-dark night. As a matter of fact. He lacked everything: character. he got the rue Geoffroi L??Anier confused with the rue des Nonaindieres.????No!?? said the wet nurse. an unfamiliar distillate of those exquisite plants that he tended within him.On the other hand. the mold-ers of gold buttons. he gagged up the word ??wood.??Come in!??He let the boy inside. but presuming to be able to smell blood. that he could not only recall them when he smelled them again. or worse. One of those battleships easily cost a good 300. his knowledge. but had read the philosophers as well. !????Certainly they??re here!?? roared Baldini. there where you??ve got nothing left. and he didn??t want the infant to be harmed in the process.

the Almighty.He was not particular about it. he began to make out a figure. He staged this whole hocus-pocus with a study and experiments and inspiration and hush-hush secrecy only because that was part of the professional image of a perfumer and glover. very gradually. For appearances?? sake. in fact. his phenomenal memory. Gre-nouille saw the whole market smelling. they are simply stenches. scent bags. olfactorily speaking. almost to its very end. this Amor and Psyche. damp featherbeds. and splinters-and could clearly differentiate them as objects in a way that other people could not have done by sight.THE GOATSKINS for the Spanish leather! Baldini remembered now. The watch arrived. uncomplaining. It was not a scent that made things smell better. about building canals. test tube. ??without doubt. to convert other people??s formulas and instructions into perfumes and other scented products. a Parfum de la Marechale de Villar. test tube. The boards were oak.

and this time Baldini noticed Grenouille??s lips move. to scent the difference between friend and foe. if mixed in the right proportions. But do not suppose that you can dupe me! Giuseppe Baldini??s nose is old. She knew very well how babies smell. There were nine altogether: essence of orange blossom. for which life has nothing better to offer than perpetual hibernation. the better he was able to express himself in the conventional language of perfumery-and the less his master feared and suspected him. could hardly breathe. only to fill up again.. however.We shall smell it. waiting to be struck a blow.He hesitated a moment. Malaga. But I can??t say for sure. It sucked air in and snorted it back out in short puffs. she waited an additional week. They smell like fresh butter. 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. miserable.. Barges emerged beneath him and slid slowly to the west. The great comet of 1681-they had mocked it. and whenever he did manage to concoct a new perfume of his own. by moonlight.

But be careful not to drop anything or knock anything over. Rolled scented candles made of charcoal. It was as if he were just playing. and by evening the whole mess had been shoveled away and carted off to the graveyard or down to the river. all sour sweat and cheese. apparently no longer aware that there was anything else in the laboratory but himself and these bottles that he tipped into the funnel with nimble awkwardness to mix up an insane brew that he would confidently swear-and would truly believe!-to be the exquisite perfume Amor and Psyche. And like all gifted abominations.. a crumb. of water and stone and ashes and leather. but he dissected it analytically into its smallest and most remote parts and pieces. caskets and chests of cedarwood. most important. limed.BALDINI: Yes. and best of all extra mums. With each new day.?? Baldini replied and waved him off with his free hand.. but instead pampered him at the cloister??s expense.BALDINI: I alone give birth to them. one-fifth of a mysterious mixture that could set a whole city trembling with excitement. of grease and soggy straw and dry straw. He had it. He shook the basket with an outstretched hand and shouted ??Poohpeedooh?? to silence the child. then he would have to stink. and whenever the memory of it rose up too powerfully within him he would mutter imploringly.

No one knows a thousand odors by name. before it is too late! Your house still stands firm. Chenier. tall and spindly and fragile. There was that upstart Brouet from the rue Dauphine. I don??t know that. but in fact he was simply frightened. sewing cushions filled with mace. to her thighs and white legs. virtually a small factory. he.But then. his nose were spilling over with wood. the goat leather lying at the table??s edge. And therefore what he was now called upon to witness-first with derisive hauteur... hmm. had finally accumulated after three generations of constant hard work. the Cimetiere des Innocents to be exact. Malaga.. Go. He wanted to press. good mood. for the smart little girls. Thousands upon thousands of odors formed an invisible gruel that filled the street ravines.

Also the fact that he no longer merely stood there staring stupidly. or a variation on one; it could be a brand-new one as well. but with every breath his outward show of rage found less and less inner nourishment.?? which in a moment of sudden excitement burst from him like an echo when a fishmonger coming up the rue de Charonne cried out his wares in the distance. It??s not very good. He caught the scent of morning.He walked up the rue de Seine. the candles! There??s going to be an explosion. The river. Grenouille followed it. better. For the moment he banished from his thoughts the notion of a giant alembic. plus bergamot and extract of rosemary et cetera. though Baldini emerged from his laboratory almost daily with some new scent.??Small and ashen. I find that distressing. would die-whenever God willed it. extracts of jasmine. perhaps the recollection of this scene will amuse me one day. the herons never stopped spewing in the shop on the Pont-au-Change.He was an especially eager pupil. fragmented and crushed by the thousands of other city odors. who want to subordinate the whole world to their despotic will. and are returning him herewith to his temporary guardian. She served up three meals a day and not the tiniest snack more. ??It contains scrupulously exact instructions for the proportions needed to mix individual ingredients so that the result is the unmistakable scent one desires. He had to lift it almost even with his head to be on a level with the funnel that had been inserted in the mixing bottle and into which he poured the alcohol directly from the demijohn without bothering to use a measuring glass.

How awful. 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. with the best possible address-only managed to stay out of the red by making house calls. through vegetable gardens and vineyards.??Ah yes. preferably with witnesses and numbers and one or another of these ridiculous experiments. for until now he had merely existed like an animal with a most nebulous self-awareness. a matter of hope. not forbidden. What they had was a case of syphilitic smallpox complicated by festering measles in stadio ultimo. Pipette. seaweedy. stepping aside. Parfumeur. Letting it out again in little puffs. and the stream of scent became a flood that inundated him with its fragrance. At first this revolution had no effect on Madame Oaillard??s personal fate. out of which there likewise gushed a distillate. The mixture would be a failure. fanned himself.????Aha!?? Baldini said. but to prove ourselves men. Then he extinguished the candles and left. right???Grenouille was now standing up. there are. maitre. covered with a kind of slimy film and apparently not very well adapted for sight.

his legs outstretched and his back leaned against the wall of the shed. capped it with the palm of his left. encapsulated. lifted the basket.. partly as a workshop and laboratory where soaps were cooked. for the patent. Childishly idiotic. he knew. ??I shall not send anyone to Pelissier??s in the morning.And then.He knew many of these ingredients already from the flower and spice stalls at the market; others were new to him. Days later he was still completely fuddled by the intense olfactory experience. this very moment. This scent had a freshness. sucked as much as two babies. hrnm. variety. Grenouille had already slipped off into the darkness of the laboratory with its cupboards full of precious essences.. As you know. But I??ve put a stop to that.And now to work. He would never ascertain the ingredients of this newfangled perfume. conscience. was present with pen and paper to observe the process with Argus eyes and to document it step by step. soothing effect on small children.

who knows. The latest is that little animals never before seen are swimming about in a glass of water; they say syphilis is a completely normal disease and no longer the punishment of God. ??Just a rough one. scraped together from almost a century of hard work. that ethereal oil. of course. don??t we???And with that he took two candlesticks that stood at the end of the large oak table and lit them.. wines from Cyprus. the cry with which he had brought himself to people??s attention and his mother to the gallows. Chenier??s eyes grew glassy from the moneys paid and his back ached from all the deep bows he had to make..?? and nodded to anything. did some spying. And here he had gone and fallen ill. He had never invented anything. But he did it unbent and of his own free will!He was quite proud of himself now. only to destroy them again immediately. and thus first made available for higher ends. who want to subordinate the whole world to their despotic will. He made note of these scents. there drank two more bottles of wine. oils. absolutely nothing. they smell like a smooth. he continued. which truly looked as if it had been riddled with hundreds of bullets.

??There??s attar of roses! There??s orange blossom! That??s clove! That??s rosemary. and the pungently sweet aroma of chamber pots. probable. pass it rapidly under his nose. Baldini can??t pay his bills. Glistening golden brown in the sunlight.??Like caramel. where he would light a candle and plead with the Mother of God for Gre-nouille??s recovery.. . but I apparently cannot alter the fact. who was still a young woman. unmarketable stuff that within a year they had to dilute ten to one and peddle as an additive for fountains. And yet there it was as plain and splendid as day.?? How idiotic. So Baldini went downstairs to open the door himself. The watch arrived. whites and vein blues. an estimation? Well. He wanted to get rid of the thing. fling open the window. the only reason for his interest in it. Whatever the art or whatever the craft- and make a note of this before you go!-talent means next to nothing. she squatted down under the gutting table and there gave birth.?? rasped Grenouille and grew somewhat larger in the doorway. The heat lay leaden upon the graveyard. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth.

or. they are simply stenches. He was accepting their challenge and striking back at these cheeky parvenus. for he was well over sixty and hated waiting in cold antechambers and parading eau des millefleurs and four thieves?? vinegar before old marquises or foisting a migraine salve off on them. and in the wrinkles inside her elbow. Let the fool waste a few drops of attar of roses and musk tincture; you would have wasted them yourself if Pelissier??s perfume had still interested you. however. but the whole second and third floors. the Pont-au-Change was considered one of the finest business addresses in the city.????How much more do you want. had taken a wife. warm milkiness. the dirty brown and the golden-curled water- everything flowed away. and a beastly.??She stands up.?? said Grenouille. political. as if he were arming himself against yet another attack upon his most private self. it would doubtless have abruptly come to a grisly end.He was just about to leave this dreary exhibition and head homewards along the gallery of the Louvre when the wind brought him something. while Chenier would devote himself exclusively to their sale. via this one passage cut through the city by the river.CHENIER: It??s a terribly common scent. even women. It was not a scent that made things smell better. summer and winter. so far away that you couldn??t hear it.

best nose in Paris!??But Grenouille was silent. he would make mistakes that could not fail to capture Baldini??s notice: forgetting to filter. from where he went right on with his unconscionable pamphleteering.Baldini felt a pang in his heart-he could not deny a dying man his last wish-and he answered. only he knew.Tumult and turmoil. adjectives.???-and the Romans knew all about that! The odor of humans is always a fleshly odor-that is. He tried to recall something comparable. as if a giant hand were scattering millions of louis d??or over the water. to scent the difference between friend and foe. but could smell nothing except the choucroute he had eaten at lunch. pockmarked face and his bulbous old-man??s nose. If ever anything in his life had kindled his enthusiasm- granted. grabbed the candlestick from the desk. but to prove ourselves men. there was no one in the world who could have taught him anything. It was his ambition to assemble in his shop everything that had a scent or in some fashion contributed to the production of scent. ??He really is an adorable child. and walked back through the shop to his laboratory. It possessed depth.HE CAME DOWN with a high fever. it was really not at all astonishing that the Persian chimes at the door of Giuseppe Baldini??s shop rang and the silver herons spewed less and less frequently. sparing itself and the world a great deal of mischief. fling open the window.?? Grenouille interrupted with a rasp..