He decided in favor of life out of sheer spite and malice.

And finally - he was neither able nor willing to prevent it - the self-loathing dammed up inside him spilled over and gushed out, gushed out of glaring eyes that grew ever grimmer, angrier, beneath the rim of his cap, flooding the outside world as perfect, vulgar hate.

When they finally did dare it, at first with stolen glances and then candid ones, they had to smile. They were uncommonly proud. For the first time they had done something out of Love.

And because people are stupid and use their noses only for blowing, but believe absolutely anything they see with their eyes, they will say it is because this is a girl with beauty and grace and charm.

He had preserved the best part of her and made it his own: the principle of her scent.

He was not bound. No one led him by the arm. He got out of the carriage as if he were a free man.

He who ruled scent ruled the hearts of men.