Парфюмер. История одного убийцы

Chapter 3

           Hefeltsicktohisstomach.Hepulledbackhisownnoseasifhesmelledsomethingfoulthathewantednothingtodowith.Gonewasthehomeythoughtthathismightbehisownfleshandblood.Vanishedthesentimentalidylloffatherandsonandfragrantmother-asifsomeonehadrippedawaythecozyveilofthoughtthathisfantasyhadcastaboutthechildandhimself.Astrange,coldcreaturelaythereonhisknees,ahostileanimal,andwerehenotamanbynatureprudent,God-fearing,andgiventoreason,intherushofnauseahewouldhavehurleditlikeaspiderfromhim.Terrierwrenchedhimselftohisfeetandsetthebasketonthetable.Hewantedtogetridofthething,asquicklyaspossible,rightawayifpossible,immediatelyifpossible.Andthenitbegantowail.Itsquintedupitseyes,gapeditsgulletwide,andgaveascreechsorepulsivelyshrillthatthebloodinTerrier’sveinscongealed.Heshookthebasketwithanoutstretchedhandandshouted“Poohpeedooh”tosilencethechild,butitonlybellowedmoreloudlyandturnedcompletelyblueinthefaceandlookedasifitwouldburstfrombellowing

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