Парфюмер. История одного убийцы

Chapter 14

           ThenheplacedhimselfbehindBaldini-whowasstillarranginghismixingutensilswithdeliberatepedantry,movingthisglassbackabit,thatoneovermoretooneside,sothateverythingwouldbeinitsoldaccustomedorderanddisplayedtoitsbestadvantageinthecandlelight—andwaited,quiveringwithimpatience,fortheoldmantogetoutofthewayandmakeroomforhim.“There!”Baldinisaidatlast,steppingaside.“I’velinedupeverythingyou’llrequirefor-letusgraciouslycallit-your‘experiment.’Don’tbreakanything,don’tspillanything.Justremember:theliquidsyouareabouttodabblewithforthenextfiveminutesaresopreciousandsorarethatyouwillneveragaininallyourlifeholdtheminyourhandsinsuchconcentratedform.”“HowmuchofitshallImakeforyou,maitre?”Grenouilleasked.“Makewhat…?”saidBaldini,whohadnotyetfinishedhisspeech.“Howmuchoftheperfume?”raspedGrenouille.“Howmuchofitdoyouwant?ShallIfillthisbigbottleheretotherim?”Andhepointedtoamixingbottlethatheldagallonattheveryleast.“No,youshallnot!”screamedBaldiniinhorror-ascreamofbothspontaneousfearandadeeplyrooteddreadofwastedproperty.Embarrassedatwhathisscreamhadrevealed,hefolloweditupbyroaring,“Anddon’tinterruptmewhenIamspeaking,either!”Theninacalmvoicetingedwithirony,hecontinued,“Whywouldweneedagallonofaperfumethatneitherofusthinksmuchof?Haifabeakerfulwilldo,really

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