He had escaped the abhorrent taint! He was truly completely alone! He was the only human being in the world!

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.

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

With one glance he had got himself trapped in the brown fundament of her eyes, he was in danger of sinking, as if into a soft, brown swamp, and he had to close his own eyes for a second to get out of it.

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

He who ruled scent ruled the hearts of men.

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