Парфюмер. История одного убийцы

Chapter 20

           Baldiniwouldhavelovedtothrottlehim,toclubhimtodeath,tobeatthoseprecioussecretsoutofthatmoribundbody,hadtherebeenanychanceofsuccess…andhaditnotsoblatantlycontradictedhisunderstandingofaChristian’sloveforhisneighbor.Andsohewentonpurringandcrooninginhissweetesttones,andcoddledhispatient,and-thoughonlyafteragreatanddreadfulstrugglewithhimself—dabbedwithcoolingpressesthepatient’ssweat-drenchedbrowandtheseethingvolcanoesofhiswounds,andspoonedwineintohismouthhopingtobringwordstohistongue-allnightlongandallinvain.Inthegrayofdawnhegaveup.Hefellexhaustedintoanarmchairatthefarendoftheroomandstared-nolongerinrage,really,butmerelyyieldingtosilentresignation-atGrenouille’ssmalldyingbodythereinthebed,whomhecouldneithersavenorrob,norfromwhomhecouldsalvageanythingelseforhimself,whosedeathhecouldonlywitnessnumbly,likeacaptainwatchinghisshipsink,takingallhiswealthwithitintothedepths.Andthenallatoncethelipsofthedyingboyopened,andinavoicewhoseclarityandfirmnessbetrayednexttonothingofhisimmediatedemise,hespoke.“Tellme,maftre,arethereotherwaystoextractthescentfromthingsbesidespressingordistilling?”Baldini,believingthevoicehadcomeeitherfromhisownimaginationorfromthenextworld,answeredmechanically,“Yes,thereare.”“Whatarethey?”camethequestionfromthebed.AndBaldiniopenedhistiredeyeswide.Grenouillelaytheremotionlessamonghispillows

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