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He
placed
all
three
next
to
one
another
along
the
back
,
pushed
the
goatskins
to
one
side
,
cleared
the
middle
of
the
table
.
Then
,
with
a
few
composed
yet
rapid
motions
,
he
fetched
from
a
small
stand
the
utensils
needed
for
the
task-the
big-bellied
mixing
bottle
,
the
glass
funnel
,
the
pipette
,
the
small
and
large
measuring
glasses
-
and
placed
them
in
proper
order
on
the
oaken
surface.Grenouille
had
meanwhile
freed
himself
from
the
doorframe
.
Even
while
Baldini
was
making
his
pompous
speech
,
the
stiffness
and
cunning
intensity
had
fallen
away
from
him
.
He
had
heard
only
the
approval
,
only
the
"
yes
,
"
with
the
inner
jubilation
of
a
child
that
has
sulked
its
way
to
some
--
permission
granted
and
thumbs
its
nose
at
the
limitations
,
conditions
,
and
moral
admonitions
tied
to
it
.
Standing
there
at
his
ease
and
letting
the
rest
of
Baldini
's
oration
flow
by
,
he
was
for
the
first
time
more
human
than
animal
,
because
he
knew
that
he
had
already
conquered
the
man
who
had
yielded
to
him.While
Baldini
was
still
fussing
with
his
candlesticks
at
the
table
,
Grenouille
had
already
slipped
off
into
the
darkness
of
the
laboratory
with
its
cupboards
full
of
precious
essences
,
oils
,
and
tinctures
,
and
following
his
sure-scenting
nose
,
grabbed
each
of
the
necessary
bottles
from
the
shelves
.
There
were
nine
altogether
:
essence
of
orange
blossom
,
lime
oil
,
attars
of
rose
and
clove
,
extracts
of
jasmine
,
bergamot
,
and
rosemary
,
musk
tincture
,
and
storax
balm
,
all
quickly
plucked
down
and
set
at
the
ready
on
the
edge
of
the
table
.
The
last
item
he
lugged
over
was
a
demijohn
full
of
high-proof
rectified
spirit
.
Then
he
placed
himself
behind
Baldini-who
was
still
arranging
his
mixing
utensils
with
deliberate
pedantry
,
moving
this
glass
back
a
bit
,
that
one
over
more
to
one
side
,
so
that
everything
would
be
in
its
old
accustomed
order
and
displayed
to
its
best
advantage
in
the
candlelight
--
and
waited
,
quivering
with
impatience
,
for
the
old
man
to
get
out
of
the
way
and
make
room
for
him
.
"
There
!
"
Baldini
said
at
last
,
stepping
aside
.
"
I
've
lined
up
everything
you
'll
require
for-let
us
graciously
call
it-your
'
experiment
.
'
Do
n't
break
anything
,
do
n't
spill
anything
.
Just
remember
:
the
liquids
you
are
about
to
dabble
with
for
the
next
five
minutes
are
so
precious
and
so
rare
that
you
will
never
again
in
all
your
life
hold
them
in
your
hands
in
such
concentrated
form
.
""
How
much
of
it
shall
I
make
for
you
,
maitre
?
"
Grenouille
asked
.
"
Make
what
...
?
"
said
Baldini
,
who
had
not
yet
finished
his
speech
.
"
How
much
of
the
perfume
?
"
rasped
Grenouille
.
"
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
.
"
No
,
you
shall
not
!
"
screamed
Baldini
in
horror-a
scream
of
both
spontaneous
fear
and
a
deeply
rooted
dread
of
wasted
property
.
Embarrassed
at
what
his
scream
had
revealed
,
he
followed
it
up
by
roaring
,
"
And
do
n't
interrupt
me
when
I
am
speaking
,
either
!
"
Then
in
a
calm
voice
tinged
with
irony
,
he
continued
,
"
Why
would
we
need
a
gallon
of
a
perfume
that
neither
of
us
thinks
much
of
?
Haifa
beakerful
will
do
,
really
But
since
such
small
quantities
are
difficult
to
measure
,
I
'll
allow
you
to
start
with
a
third
of
a
mixing
bottle
.
""
Good
,
"
said
Grenouille
.
"
I
'm
going
to
fill
a
third
of
this
bottle
with
Amor
and
Psyche
.
But
,
Maitre
Baidini
,
I
will
do
it
in
my
own
way
.
I
do
n't
know
if
it
will
be
how
a
craftsman
would
do
it
.
I
do
n't
know
how
that
's
done
.
But
I
will
do
it
my
own
way
.
""
As
you
please
,
"
said
Baidini
,
who
knew
that
in
this
business
there
was
no
"
your
way
"
or
"
my
way
,
"
but
one
and
only
one
way
,
which
consisted
of
knowing
the
formula
and
,
using
the
appropriate
calculations
for
the
quantity
one
desired
,
creating
a
precisely
measured
concentrate
of
the
various
essences
,
which
then
had
to
be
volatilized
into
a
true
perfume
by
mixing
it
in
a
precise
ratio
with
alcohol-usually
varying
between
one-to-ten
and
one-to-twenty
.
There
was
no
other
way
,
that
he
knew
.
And
therefore
what
he
was
now
called
upon
to
witness-first
with
derisive
hauteur
,
then
with
dismay
,
and
finally
with
helpless
astonishment-seemed
to
him
nothing
less
than
a
miracle
.
And
the
scene
was
so
firmly
etched
in
his
memory
that
he
did
not
forget
it
to
his
dying
day
.
THE
LITTLE
MAN
named
Grenouille
first
uncorked
the
demijohn
of
alcohol
.
Heaving
the
heavy
vessel
up
gave
him
difficulty
.
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
.
Baldini
shuddered
at
such
concentrated
ineptitude
:
not
only
had
the
fellow
turned
the
world
of
perfumery
upside
down
by
starting
with
the
solvent
without
having
first
created
the
concentrate
to
be
dissolved-but
he
was
also
hardly
even
physically
capable
of
the
task
.
He
was
shaking
with
exertion
,
and
Baldini
was
waiting
at
any
moment
for
the
heavy
demijohn
to
come
crashing
down
and
smash
everything
on
the
table
to
pieces
.
The
candles
,
he
thought
,
for
God
's
sake
,
the
candles
!
There
's
going
to
be
an
explosion
,
he
'll
burn
my
house
down
...
!
And
he
was
about
to
lunge
for
the
demijohn
and
grab
it
out
of
the
madman
's
hands
when
Grenouille
set
it
down
himself
,
getting
it
back
on
the
floor
all
in
one
piece
,
and
stoppered
it
.
A
clear
,
light
liquid
swayed
in
the
bottle-not
a
drop
spilled
.
For
a
few
moments
Grenouille
panted
for
breath
,
but
with
a
look
of
contentment
on
his
face
as
if
the
hardest
part
of
the
job
were
behind
him
.
And
indeed
,
what
happened
now
proceeded
with
such
speed
that
BaWini
could
hardly
follow
it
with
his
eyes
,
let
alone
keep
track
of
the
order
in
which
it
occurred
or
make
even
partial
sense
of
the
procedure
.
Grenouille
grabbed
apparently
at
random
from
the
row
of
essences
in
their
flacons
,
pulled
out
the
glass
stoppers
,
held
the
contents
under
his
nose
for
an
instant
,
splashed
a
bit
of
one
bottle
,
dribbled
a
drop
or
two
of
another
,
poured
a
dash
of
a
third
into
the
funnel
,
and
so
on
.
Pipette
,
test
tube
,
measuring
glass
,
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
.
It
was
as
if
he
were
just
playing
,
splashing
and
swishing
like
a
child
busy
cooking
up
some
ghastly
brew
of
water
,
grass
,
and
mud
,
which
he
then
asserts
to
be
soup
.
Yes
,
like
a
child
,
thought
Baldini
;
all
at
once
he
looks
like
a
child
,
despite
his
ungainly
hands
,
despite
his
scarred
,
pockmarked
face
and
his
bulbous
old-man
's
nose
.
I
took
him
to
be
older
than
he
is
;
but
now
he
seems
much
younger
to
me
;
he
looks
as
if
he
were
three
or
four
;
looks
just
like
one
of
those
unapproachable
,
incomprehensible
,
willful
little
prehuman
creatures
,
who
in
their
ostensible
innocence
think
only
of
themselves
,
who
want
to
subordinate
the
whole
world
to
their
despotic
will
,
and
would
do
it
,
too
,
if
one
let
them
pursue
their
megalomaniacal
ways
and
did
not
apply
the
strictest
pedagogical
principles
to
guide
them
to
a
disciplined
,
self-controlled
,
fully
human
existence
.
There
was
just
such
a
fanatical
child
trapped
inside
this
young
man
,
standing
at
the
table
with
eyes
aglow
,
having
forgotten
everything
around
him
,
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
.
Baldini
shuddered
as
he
watched
the
fellow
bustling
about
in
the
candlelight
,
so
shockingly
absurd
and
so
shockingly
self-confident
.
In
the
old
days-so
he
thought
,
and
for
a
moment
he
felt
as
sad
and
miserable
and
furious
as
he
had
that
afternoon
while
gazing
out
onto
the
city
glowing
ruddy
in
the
twilight-in
the
old
days
people
like
that
simply
did
not
exist
;
he
was
an
entirely
new
specimen
of
the
race
,
one
that
could
arise
only
in
exhausted
,
dissipated
times
like
these
...
,
But
he
was
about
to
be
taught
his
lesson
,
the
impertinent
boy
.
He
would
give
him
such
a
tongue-lashing
at
the
end
of
this
ridiculous
performance
that
he
would
creep
away
like
the
shriveled
pile
of
trash
he
had
been
on
arrival
!
Vermin
!
One
dared
not
get
involved
with
anyone
at
all
these
days
,
the
world
was
simply
teeming
with
absurd
vermin!Baldini
was
so
busy
with
his
personal
exasperation
and
disgust
at
the
age
that
he
did
not
really
comprehend
what
was
intended
when
Grenouille
suddenly
stoppered
up
all
the
flacons
,
pulled
the
funnel
out
of
the
mixing
bottle
,
grabbed
the
neck
of
the
bottle
with
his
right
hand
,
capped
it
with
the
palm
of
his
left
,
and
shook
it
vigorously
.
Only
when
the
bottle
had
been
spun
through
the
air
several
times
,
its
precious
contents
sloshing
back
and
forth
like
lemonade
between
belly
and
neck
,
did
Baldini
let
loose
a
shout
of
rage
and
horror
.
"
Stop
it
!
"
he
screeched
.
"
That
's
enough
!
Stop
it
this
moment
!
Basta
!
Put
that
bottle
back
on
the
table
and
do
n't
touch
anything
else
,
do
you
understand
,
nothing
else
!
I
must
have
been
crazy
to
listen
to
your
asinine
gibberish
.
The
way
you
handle
these
things
,
your
crudity
,
your
primitive
lack
of
judgment
,
demonstrate
to
me
that
you
are
a
bungler
,
a
barbaric
bungler
,
and
a
beastly
,
cheeky
,
snot-nosed
brat
besides
.
You
would
n't
make
a
good
lemonade
mixer
,
not
even
a
good
licorice-water
vendor
,
let
alone
a
perfumer
!
Just
be
glad
,
be
grateful
and
content
that
your
master
lets
you
slop
around
in
tanning
fluids
!
Do
not
dare
it
ever
again
,
do
you
hear
me
?
Do
not
dare
ever
again
to
set
a
foot
across
the
threshold
of
a
perfumer
's
shop
!
"
Thus
spoke
Baldini
.
And
even
as
he
spoke
,
the
air
around
him
was
saturated
with
the
odor
of
Amor
and
Psyche
.
Odors
have
a
power
of
persuasion
stronger
than
that
of
words
,
appearances
,
emotions
,
or
will
.
The
persuasive
power
of
an
odor
can
not
be
fended
off
,
it
enters
into
us
like
breath
into
our
lungs
,
it
fills
us
up
,
imbues
us
totally
.
There
is
no
remedy
for
it.Grenouille
had
set
down
the
bottle
,
removing
his
perfume-moistened
hand
from
its
neck
and
wiping
it
on
his
shirttail
.
One
,
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
.
Nothing
more
was
needed
.
True
,
Baldini
ranted
on
,
railed
and
cursed
,
but
with
every
breath
his
outward
show
of
rage
found
less
and
less
inner
nourishment
.
He
sensed
he
had
been
proved
wrong
,
which
was
why
his
peroration
could
only
soar
to
empty
pathos
.
And
when
he
fell
silent
,
had
been
silent
for
a
good
while
,
he
had
no
need
of
Grenouille
's
remark
:
"
It
's
all
done
.
"
He
knew
that
already.But
nevertheless
,
although
in
the
meantime
air
heavy
with
Amor
and
Psyche
was
undulating
all
about
him
,
he
stepped
up
to
the
old
oak
table
to
make
his
test
.
He
pulled
a
fresh
snowy
white
lace
handkerchief
from
his
coat
pocket
,
the
left
one
,
unfolded
it
and
sprinkled
it
with
a
few
drops
that
he
extracted
from
the
mixing
bottle
with
the
long
pipette
.
He
waved
the
handkerchief
with
outstretched
arm
to
aerate
it
and
then
pulled
it
past
his
nose
with
the
delicate
,
well-practiced
motion
,
soaking
up
its
scent
.
Letting
it
out
again
in
little
puffs
,
he
sat
down
on
a
stool
.
Where
before
his
face
had
been
bright
red
with
erupting
anger
,
all
at
once
he
had
grown
pale
.
"
Incredible
,
"
he
murmured
softly
to
himself
,
"
by
God
--
incredible
.
"
And
he
pressed
the
handkerchief
to
his
nose
again
and
again
and
sniffed
and
shook
his
head
and
muttered
,
"
Incredible
.
"
It
was
Amor
and
Psyche
,
beyond
the
shadow
of
a
doubt
Amor
and
Psyche
,
that
despicable
,
ingenious
blend
of
scents
,
so
exactly
copied
that
not
even
Pelissier
himself
would
have
been
able
to
distinguish
it
from
his
own
product
.
"
Incredible
...
"
Small
and
ashen
,
the
great
Baldini
sat
on
his
stool
,
looking
ridiculous
with
handkerchief
in
hand
,
pressing
it
to
his
nose
like
an
old
maid
with
the
sniffles
.
By
now
he
was
totally
speechless
.
He
did
n't
even
say
"
incredible
"
anymore
,
but
nodding
gently
and
staring
at
the
contents
of
the
mixing
bottle
,
could
only
let
out
a
monotone
"
Hmm
,
hrnm
,
hmm
...
hmm
,
hmm
,
hmm
...
hmm
,
hmm
,
hmm
.
"
After
a
while
,
Gre-nouille
approached
,
stepping
up
to
the
table
soundlessly
as
a
shadow
.
"
It
's
not
a
good
perfume
,
"
he
said
.
"
It
's
been
put
together
very
bad
,
this
perfume
has
.
""
Hmm
,
hmm
,
hmm
,
"
said
Baldini
,
and
Grenouille
continued
,
"
If
you
'll
let
me
,
maitre
,
I
'll
make
it
better
.
Give
me
a
minute
and
I
'll
make
a
proper
perfume
out
of
it
!
""
Hmm
,
hmm
,
hmm
,
"
said
Baldini
and
nodded
.
Not
in
consent
,
but
because
he
was
in
such
a
helplessly
apathetic
condition
that
he
would
have
said
"
hmm
,
hmm
,
hmm
,
"
and
nodded
to
anything
.
And
he
went
on
nodding
and
murmuring
"
hmm
,
hmm
,
hmm
,
"
and
made
no
effort
to
interfere
as
Grenouille
began
to
mix
away
a
second
time
,
pouring
the
alcohol
from
the
demijohn
into
the
mixing
bottle
a
second
time
(
right
on
top
of
the
perfume
already
in
it
)
,
tipping
the
contents
of
flacons
a
second
time
in
apparently
random
order
and
quantity
into
the
funnel
.
Only
at
the
end
of
the
procedure-Grenouille
did
not
shake
the
bottle
this
time
,
but
swirled
it
about
gently
like
a
brandy
glass
,
perhaps
in
deference
to
Baldini
's
delicacy
,
perhaps
because
the
contents
seemed
more
precious
to
him
this
time-only
then
,
as
the
liquid
whirled
about
in
the
bottle
,
did
Baldini
awaken
from
his
numbed
state
and
stand
up
,
the
handkerchief
still
pressed
to
his
nose
,
of
course
,
as
if
he
were
arming
himself
against
yet
another
attack
upon
his
most
private
self
.
"
It
's
all
done
,
maitre
,
"
Grenouille
said
.
"
Now
it
's
a
really
good
scent
.
""
Yes
,
yes
,
fine
,
fine
,
"
Baldini
replied
and
waved
him
off
with
his
free
hand
.
"
Do
n't
you
want
to
test
it
?
"
Grenouille
gurgled
on
.
"
Do
n't
you
want
to
,
maitre
?
Are
n't
you
going
to
test
it
?
""
Later
.
I
'm
not
in
the
mood
to
test
it
at
the
moment
...
have
other
things
on
my
mind
.
Go
now
!
Come
on
!
"
And
he
picked
up
one
of
the
candlesticks
and
passed
through
the
door
into
the
shop
.
Grenouille
followed
him
.
They
entered
the
narrow
hallway
that
led
to
the
servants
'
entrance
.
The
old
man
shuffled
up
to
the
doorway
,
pulled
back
the
bolt
,
and
opened
the
door
.
He
stepped
aside
to
let
the
lad
out
.
"
Ca
n't
I
come
to
work
for
you
,
maitre
,
ca
n't
I
?
"
Grenouille
asked
,
standing
on
the
threshold
,
hunched
over
again
,
the
lurking
look
returning
to
his
eye
.
"
I
do
n't
know
,
"
said
Baldini
.
"
I
shall
think
about
it
.
Go
.
"
And
then
Grenouille
had
vanished
,
gone
in
a
split
second
,
swallowed
up
by
the
darkness
.
Baldini
stood
there
and
stared
into
the
night
.
