Chapter 23

           WHENTHEHouseofGiuseppeBaldinicollapsed,GrenouillewasalreadyontheroadtoOrleans.Hehadlefttheenvelopinghazeofthecitybehindhim;andwitheverystephetookawayfromit,theairabouthimgrewclearer,purer,andcleaner.Itbecamethinneraswell.Gonewastheroilingofhundreds,thousandsofchangingodorsateverypace;instead,thefewodorstherewere-ofthesandyroad,meadows,theearth,plants,water-extendedacrossthecountrysideinlongcurrents,swellingslowly,abatingslowly,withhardlyanabruptbreak.ForGrenouille,thissimplicityseemedadeliverance.Theleisurelyodorscoaxedhisnose.Forthefirsttimeinhislifehedidnothavetopreparehimselftocatchthescentofsomethingnew,unexpected,hostile-ortoloseapleasantsmell-witheverybreath.Forthefirsttimehecouldalmostbreathefreely,didnotconstantlyhavetobeontheolfactorylookout.Wesay“almost,”forofcoursenothingeverpassedtrulyfreelythroughGrenouille’snose.Evenwhentherewasnottheleastreasonforit,hewasalwaysalertto,alwayswaryofeverythingthatcamefromoutsideandhadtobeletinside.Hiswholelifelong,eveninthosefewmomentswhenhehadexperiencedsomeinklingofsatisfaction,contentment,andperhapsevenhappiness,hehadpreferredexhalingtoinhaling-justashehadbegunlifenotwithahopefulgaspforairbutwithabloodcurdlingscream.

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