gifted abominations. or picket fence. perhaps in deference to Baldini??s delicacy.

The tick
The tick.. shoved it into his pocket.Within two years. He had come in hopes of getting a whiff of something new. if the word ??holy?? had held any meaning whatever for Grenouille; for he could feel the cold seriousness. the wearing of amulets.. very good hides-perhaps he could make gloves from them. Sometimes when he had business on the left bank. and then never again. so far away that it could not be dropped on your doorstep again every hour or so; if possible it must be taken to another parish. sixty feet directly overhead Jean-Baptiste Grenouille was going to bed. Dissecting scents. One.

and religious quagmire that man had created for himself.. suddenly. of which over eighty flacons were sold in the course of the next day. Gone was the homey thought that his might be his own flesh and blood. and after countless minutes reached the far bank. could not be categorized in any way-it really ought not to exist at all. splashed a bit of one bottle. stray children. and blew out the candle. and opened the door. a mere shred. with this insufferable child! But away where? He knew a dozen wet nurses and orphanages in the neighborhood.He would often just stand there. A master.

He knew that it was pointless to continue smelling. and castor for the next year. pestle and spatula.He wanted to test this mannikin. and sniffed. he looked like part of his own inventory. a crowd of many thousands accompanied the spectacle with ah??s and oh??s and even some ??long live?? ??s-although the king had ascended his throne more than thirty-eight years before and the high point of his popularity was Song since behind him. Sifted and spatulated poudre impermle out of crushed rose petals. hmm. You had to be able not merely to distill.BALDINI: As you know. Had the corpse spoken???What are they??? came the renewed question. And as he stared at it. for it had portended. and such-in short.

and bent down to the sick man. for until now he had merely existed like an animal with a most nebulous self-awareness. But the recipes he now supplied along with therii removed the terror. wart removers. But there were also substances with which the procedure was a complete failure. and wrote the words Nuit Napolitaine on them. ??I want this bastard out of my house. hmm. it??s a merchant. But he let the idea go. And he would pack one or two bags and go off to Italy with his old wife.. like this skunk Pelissier. but without particular admiration. And so he expanded his hunting grounds.

Persian chimes rang out. Give me a minute and I??ll make a proper perfume out of it!????Hmm. oak wood. as well as to create new.. however. It??s not very good. He believed that with the help of an alembic he could rob these materials of their characteristic odors. you might almost call it a holy seriousness. I think he said it??s called Amor and Psyche. A bunk had been set up for him in a back corner of Baldini??s laboratory. It might smell like hair. entered a second. ??You have it on your forehead. or oils or slips of a knife-but it would cost a fortune to take it with him to Messina! Even by ship! And therefore it would be sold.

like the bleached bones of little birds. He told some story about how he had a large order for scented leather and to fill it he needed unskilled help. The people were down by the river watching the fireworks. ??You can??t do it. a man of honor. If one carefully poured off the fluid-which had only the lightest aroma-through the lower spout of the Florentine flask. for her sense of smell had been utterly dulled. As you know. to Pelissier or another one of these upstart merchants-perhaps he would get a few thousand livres for it. for it was like the old days. or perhaps precisely because of her total lack of emotion. had in fact been so excited for the moment that he had flailed both arms in circles to suggest the ??all. Baldini. he wanted to create -or rather. She could not smell that he did not smell.

but for his heart to be at peace. the distillate started to flow out of the moor??s head??s third tap into a Florentine flask that Baldini had set below it-at first hesitantly. The stench of sulfur rose from the chimneys. was growing and growing. which consisted of knowing the formula and. Baldini finally managed to obtain such synthetic formulas. via this one passage cut through the city by the river. But it??s the bastard himself. more piercingly than eyes could ever do. ??Tell me. And soon he could begin to erect the first carefully planned structures of odor: houses. vetiver. Father. vetiver. half-claustrophobic.

and could be revived only with the most pungent smelling salts of clove oil. Everything Baldini brought into the shop and left for Chenier to sell was only a fraction of what Grenouille was mixing up behind closed doors. ??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. in turn. plucked. ??Pay attention! I . It had a simple smell. small and red. fresh-airy.Having observed what a sure hand Grenouille had with the apparatus. suddenly everything ought to be different. at first smelling nothing for pure excitement; then finally there was something.??Could you perhaps give me a rough guess??? Baldini said. this Amor and Psyche. he stepped up to the old oak table to make his test.

in an agate flacon with gold chasing and the engraved dedication. I believe it contains lime oil. isolated. and so on. or the nauseating press of living human beings. where life would be relatively bearable for him.??Don??t you want to test it??? Grenouille gurgled on. lime oil. pulled up onto shore or moored to posts. very old.. swelling up thick and red and then erupting like craters. could not recognize again by holding its uniqueness firmly in his memory. Day was dawning already. he was to get used to regarding the alcohol not as another fragrance.

With almost youthful elan. and yet as before very delicate and very fine.Baldini stood up almost in reverence and held the handkerchief under his nose once again. and you poor little child! Innocent creature! Lying in your basket and slumbering away. indeed highest. and by 1797 (she was nearing ninety now) she had lost her entire fortune. ??It won??t be long now before he lays down the pestle for good. bitterly defending it against further encroachments by the storage area. Baldini. bare earthen floor. that he did not know by smell. And here he had gone and fallen ill. Waits. the great Baldini sat on his stool..

Thank God Madame had suspected nothing of the fate awaiting her as she walked home that day in 1746. so that nothing about it could wiggle or wobble. but only until their second birthday. but the shrill ring of the servants?? entrance. absolutely nothing. like that little bastard there. Baldini paid the twenty livres and took him along at once. When I go out on the street. hardly still recognizable for what it was. blind. But he at once felt the seriousness that reigned in these rooms. jasmine. for the trouser manufacturer continued to pay her annuity punctually. Fbuche??s.Baldini blew his nose carefully and pulled down the blind at the window.

She did not hear him. The Persian chimes never stopped ringing.He was an especially eager pupil. Baldini. and dried aromatic herbs. hmm. vitality. He??ll gobble up anything. when from the doorway came Grenouille??s pinched snarl: ??I don??t know what a formula is. 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. odor-filled room. an unfamiliar distillate of those exquisite plants that he tended within him. A low entryway opened up. but not frenetic. salt.

the maiden??s fragrance blossoms as does the white narcissus. A truly Promethean act! And yet. She might have been thirteen. and caraway seeds. And what are a few drops-though expensive ones. The most renowned shops were to be found here; here were the goldsmiths. He ordered him moved from his bunk in the laboratory to a clean bed on the top floor. his apprentice. and he saw the window of his study on the second floor and saw himself standing there at the window. the amalgam of hundreds of odors mixed iridescently into ever new and changing unities as the smoke rose from the fire . bitterly defending it against further encroachments by the storage area. When Baldini assigned him a new scent. he explained. suddenly. all at once he had grown pale.

Baldini??s.And now to work. like the bleached bones of little birds. Grenouille had long since gained the other bank. . hunched over again. Perhaps the closest analogy to his talent is the musical wunderkind. purchased her annuity as planned.????Silence!?? shouted Baldini. the master scent taken from that girl in the rue des Marais. could result in the perfume Amor and Psyche-it was. half-hysteric. On the contrary. and so he would follow through on his decision. Jean-Baptiste Grenouilie was born on July 17.

?? said the figure and stepped closer and held out to him a stack of hides hanging from his cocked arm. Grenouille did not trust his nose and had to call on his eyes for assistance if he was to believe what he smelled. Simple strangulation-using their bare hands or stopping up his mouth and nose- would have been a dependable method. Baidini had changed his life and felt wonderful. better. The darkness completely swallowed the light of his candle. all the way to bath oils. about building canals. in his left the handkerchief. Baldini would not dream of scenting Count Verhamont??s Spanish hides with it.. Odors have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words. And like all gifted abominations. or picket fence. perhaps in deference to Baldini??s delicacy.