Парфюмер. История одного убийцы

           “Justaroughone,anestimation?Well,speakup,bestnoseinParis!”ButGrenouillewassilent.“Yousee?”saidBaldini,equallybothsatisfiedanddisappointed;andhestraightenedup.“Youcan’tdoit.Ofcourseyoucan’t.You’reoneofthosepeoplewhoknowwhetherthereischervilorparsleyinthesoupatmealtime.That’sfine,there’ssomethingtobesaidforthat.Butthatdoesn’tmakeyouacook,notbyalongshot.Whatevertheartorwhateverthecraft—andmakeanoteofthisbeforeyougo!-talentmeansnexttonothing,whileexperience,acquiredinhumilityandwithhardwork,meanseverything.”Hewasreachingforthecandlestickonthetable,whenfromthedoorwaycameGrenouille’spinchedsnarl:“Idon’tknowwhataformulais,maitre.Idon’tknowthat,butotherwiseIknoweverything!”“Aformulaisthealphaandomegaofeveryperfume,”repliedBaldinisternly,forhewantedtoendthisconversation-now.“Itcontainsscrupulouslyexactinstructionsfortheproportionsneededtomixindividualingredientssothattheresultistheunmistakablescentonedesires.Thatisaformula.Itistherecipe-ifthatisawordyouunderstandbetter.”“Formula,formula,”raspedGrenouilleandgrewsomewhatlargerinthedoorway.“Idon’tneedaformula.Ihavetherecipeinmynose.CanImixitforyou,maitre,canImixit,canI?”“How’sthat?”priedBaldiniinaratherloudvoiceandheldthecandleuptothegnome’sface.“Howwouldyoumixit?”Forthefirsttime,Grenouilledidnotflinch.