Парфюмер. История одного убийцы

Chapter 29

           Virtuallydrowninginhimself,hecouldnotforthelifeofhimsmellhimself!Asthisbecamecleartohim,hegaveascreamasdreadfulandloudasifhewerebeingburnedalive.Thescreamsmashedthroughthewallsofthepurplesalon,throughthewallsofthecastle,andspedawayfromhisheartacrosstheditchesandswampsanddeserts,hurtledacrossthenocturnallandscapeofhissoullikeafirestorm,howleditswayoutofhismouth,downthewindingtunnel,outintotheworld,andfaracrossthehighplainsofSaint-Flour-asifthemountainitselfwerescreaming.AndGrenouilleawokeathisownscream.Inwaking,hethrashedaboutasifhehadtodriveofftheodorlessfogtryingtosuffocatehim.Hewasdeathlyafraid,hiswholebodyshookwiththerawfearofdeath.Hadhisscreamnotrippedopenthefog,hewouldhavedrownedinhimself-agruesomedeath.Heshudderedasherecalledit.Andashesatthereshiveringandtryingtogatherhisconfused,terrifiedthoughts,heknewonethingforsure:hewouldchangehislife,ifonlybecausehedidnotwanttodreamsuchafrighteningdreamasecondtime.Hewouldnotsurviveitasecondtime.Hethrewhishorseblanketoverhisshouldersandcreptoutintotheopen.Itwasalreadymorningoutside,alateFebruarymorning.Thesunwasshining.Theearthsmelledofmoiststones,moss,andwater.Onthewindtherealreadylayalightbouquetofanemones.Hesquattedonthegroundbeforehiscave.Thesunlightwarmedhim.Hebreathedinthefreshair.Wheneverhethoughtofthefogthathehadescaped,ashudderwouldpassoverhim.

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