Chapter 12

           BEFOREHIMstoodtheflaconwithPeiissier’sperfume.Glisteninggoldenbrowninthesunlight,theliquidwasclear,notcloudedintheleast.Itlookedtotallyinnocent,likealighttea-andyetcontained,inadditiontofour-fifthsalcohol,one-fifthofamysteriousmixturethatcouldsetawholecitytremblingwithexcitement.Themixture,moreover,mightconsistofthreeorthirtydifferentingredients,preparedfromamongcountlesspossibilitiesinverypreciseproportionstooneanother.Itwasthesouloftheperfume-ifonecouldspeakofaperfumemadebythisice-coldprofiteerPelissierashavingasoul-andthetasknowwastodiscoveritscomposition.Baldiniblewhisnosecarefullyandpulleddowntheblindatthewindow,sincedirectsunlightwasharmfultoeveryartificialscentorrefinedconcentrationofodors.Hepulledafreshwhitelacehandkerchiefoutofadeskdrawerandunfoldedit.Then,holdinghisheadfarbackandpinchinghisnostrilstogether,heopenedtheflaconwithagentleturnofthestopper.Hedidnotwant,forGod’ssake,togetaprematureolfactorysensationdirectlyfromthebottle.Perfumemustbesmelledinitsefflorescent,gaseousstate,neverasaconcentrate.Hesprinkledafewdropsontothehandkerchief,waveditintheairtodriveoffthealcohol,andthenheldittohisnose.

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