Парфюмер. История одного убийцы

Chapter 15

           Grenouillegrabbedapparentlyatrandomfromtherowofessencesintheirflacons,pulledouttheglassstoppers,heldthecontentsunderhisnoseforaninstant,splashedabitofonebottle,dribbledadroportwoofanother,pouredadashofathirdintothefunnel,andsoon.Pipette,testtube,measuringglass,spoonsandrods-alltheutensilsthatallowtheperfumertocontrolthecomplicatedprocessofmixing-Grenouilledidnotsomuchastouchasingleoneofthem.Itwasasifhewerejustplaying,splashingandswishinglikeachildbusycookingupsomeghastlybrewofwater,grass,andmud,whichhethenassertstobesoup.Yes,likeachild,thoughtBaldini;allatoncehelookslikeachild,despitehisungainlyhands,despitehisscarred,pockmarkedfaceandhisbulbousold-man’snose.Itookhimtobeolderthanheis;butnowheseemsmuchyoungertome;helooksasifhewerethreeorfour;looksjustlikeoneofthoseunapproachable,incomprehensible,willfullittleprehumancreatures,whointheirostensibleinnocencethinkonlyofthemselves,whowanttosubordinatethewholeworldtotheirdespoticwill,andwoulddoit,too,ifoneletthempursuetheirmegalomaniacalwaysanddidnotapplythestrictestpedagogicalprinciplestoguidethemtoadisciplined,self-controlled,fullyhumanexistence.

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