Король расхитителей гробниц - Глава 2
And the scent of wool, white as cheese, is inhaled. It's a fragrance that people enjoy.
"I don't understand what you want. I don't understand your purpose. All I can think of is that if this baby continues..."
"Let the baby nurse for a while longer; it will be absolutely harmless to the baby."
“It’s nothing to him,” the wet nurse grumbled back, “but it’s harmful to me. I’ve already lost weight.”
Ten pounds, and I ate enough for three people. For what? Just to get three francs a week?
“I see, I understand,” Thalie said almost easily. “I get it all: it’s all about money.”
reason."
“No,” the wet nurse said.
"Yes! It's always about money. If someone knocks on this door, it's always about money. I once hoped..."
I opened the door, and the person standing there had come for something else. Perhaps someone had come to give a small gift. For example...
Suggesting to send some fruit or nuts. It's autumn now, there aren't many things to send! Maybe flowers. Also...
Someone might run up and say in a friendly manner, "God bless you, Elder Thalie, I wish you all the best!" But...
I don't think I've ever experienced anything like this before. The person who came was either a beggar or a small vendor; if not a small vendor...
If he's a vendor, then he's a craftsman. If he doesn't ask for alms, then he's asking for payment. Now I...
I can't go out on the street at all. If I did, I'd be surrounded by beggars after only three steps!
“I will not be among those who surround you,” the wet nurse said.
"But there's something I have to tell you: you're not the only wet nurse in this parish. There are hundreds of firsts."
Nursing mothers or nannies, eager to earn three francs a week, were vying to use their own breast milk.
Feed this adorable baby, or feed him porridge, juice, or other nutritious foods…
"Then let's hand him over to one of them!"
"...On the other hand, it's not good to keep turning the child around. Who knows if he'll feel the same way about drinking someone else's milk as he does about drinking yours?"
"He's grown up so well, just like your milk, you know. He's gotten used to your milky scent and the beating of your heart."
He took another deep breath of the warm, comforting scent emanating from the wet nurse. Then, he realized his words...
It had no effect on her, so she said:
"Now take this child home! I'll discuss this with the abbot. I will mention it to him."
Here's a suggestion: I'll give you four francs every week from now on.
“No,” the wet nurse said.
"Then it's a deal: five francs!"
"no."
"How much money do you want?" Thalie shouted at her. "Five francs for feeding a baby..."
"We've already done enough of this minor work!"
“Russia doesn’t want any money,” the wet nurse said. “I’m going to get this bastard out of the house.”
“But why is that, my dear wife?” Thalie said, reaching his fingers into the basket again to feel around.
"This is indeed a lovely child. He has a rosy complexion, he doesn't cry or fuss, he sleeps peacefully, and he already..."
He has been baptized.
"He's bewitched."
Thalie quickly pulled his fingers out of the basket.
"Impossible! A baby possessed? Absolutely impossible. The baby isn't even a person, it's an ape!"
His soul is not yet fully formed. The devil is not interested in him. Has he already learned to speak? Has he...?
Is he convulsing? Has he touched anything in the room? Does he smell bad?
“He has no smell at all,” the wet nurse said.
"Sure enough, that's an obvious characteristic. If he's possessed, he'll definitely smell bad."
To comfort his wet nurse and to prove his courage, Thalie lifted the basket up to his nose.
Underneath the child.
"I don't smell anything strange," he said after sniffing for a while. "There really isn't anything strange. But I feel..."
"Well, there seems to be a smell in the diaper." He held the basket out to her so she could confirm his impression.
“That’s not what I meant,” the wet nurse said irritably, pushing the basket away. “I didn’t mean the diapers.”
The smell. His urine and feces smelled normal. I mean, the little bastard himself doesn't smell at all.
"—Because he is healthy," Thalie exclaimed, "because he is healthy, he has no smell! Only..."
It's common knowledge that sick children have a distinct odor. It's also well-known that a child with smallpox smells like horse manure.
A child with scarlet fever smells like rotten apples, while a child with tuberculosis smells like onions. These...
There's no odor, and he's healthy. Do you want him to smell bad? Does your own child emit any unpleasant odor?
Does it smell bad?
“No,” the wet nurse said, “my child smells like a human child.”
Thalie carefully placed the basket back on the ground, for he felt that his anger at the wet nurse's stubborn defiance had subsided.
This stirred a surge of emotion within him. In the ensuing debate, he inevitably had to use both arms to...
He wanted to adopt a more relaxed posture, not wanting to harm the baby. Of course, he first tucked his hands behind his back and...
The wet nurse stuck out his pointed belly and asked sternly.
"Whether he insists that he is just an ordinary child, and after all, a child of God—I have to..."
Just so you know, he's been baptized—there has to be a scent, right?
“Yes,” the wet nurse said.
"Furthermore, you insist that if a child doesn't have the smell you believe he should have, then he is..."
"The devil's child? You, Jeanne Bissiere, the wet nurse of Rue Saint-Denis!"
He stretched out his left hand from behind his back, bent his index finger into a question mark, and held it threateningly in front of her.
The wet nurse was deep in thought. She felt something was amiss when the conversation suddenly turned into a theological interrogation; she was caught in this kind of questioning.
China will definitely lose to him.
“That’s not what I meant,” the wet nurse stammered. “As for whether this matter has anything to do with the devil, Terry…”
Elder Ai, you should judge for yourself; this matter is not my concern. There's only one thing I know: I'm afraid of this baby.
Because he doesn't have the smell a child should have.
“Aha!” Thalie said with satisfaction, then swung his arm back to its original position like a pendulum. “Then I…”
Let's not talk about anything related to the devil. Okay. But please tell me: in your opinion, if an infant...
The child now has the scent he should have. What exactly does that scent smell like? Tell me!
“This smells nice,” the wet nurse said.
“What do you mean by ‘smells good’?” Thalie yelled at her. “Many things smell good. A bunch of…”
The scent of lavender is lovely. The smell of meat from the butcher shop is lovely. The gardens of Arabs smell wonderful. I want to know...
"What scent should a baby give off?"
The wet nurse hesitated. She knew perfectly well what a baby smelled like. She had already fed him…
She has raised and kissed dozens of babies, rocking them to sleep... She can find them by their nose in the dark, even...
Now she can clearly smell the babies in her nose. But she has never expressed it in words.
“Speak!” Thalie roared, impatiently flicking his fingernails.
“Well,” the wet nurse began, “it’s not so easy to say, because… because although their…”
The smell is pleasant everywhere, but they don't all smell the same. Elder, do you understand? Just look at their feet...
For example, they smell like a smooth, warm stone—no, more accurately, like cheese…
Or like butter, like fresh butter—yes, absolutely, they smell like fresh butter.
The torso smelled like…like a mille-feuille in milk; while the head, that is, the top and the back of the head,
Those few strands of hair curled up. Elder, look, right here, in this spot where your hair no longer grows…
She gently patted Thalie's bald head, and he was momentarily speechless at her incessant ramblings, obediently lowering his head.
Lower your head. "...Here, definitely here, that's where they smell best. It smells burnt."
The smell of sugar, it's so sweet, so wonderful, Elder. You can't imagine! If others smelled their scent...
Then you'll definitely like them, whether they're your own or someone else's child. That's the scent of a baby.
Instead of something else. If they didn't have that smell, they wouldn't have any smell at all on their heads, like this mixed...
His smell is even worse than cold air, so... explain it however you like, Elder.
But I…” she hardened her heart, crossed her arms over her chest, and cast a look of disgust at the basket at her feet.
As if the basket contained a toad, "I, Jeanne Bissiere, will never bring this home again!"
Elder Thalie slowly raised his bowed head, stroking his bald head a few times with one finger, as if he were about to comb it.
While getting his hair done, he casually put his finger under his nose and smelled it thoughtfully.
“Like caramel…?” he asked, trying to regain his stern tone, “…caramel! You know caramel…”
Candy? You've already had some?
“I’ve never tasted it directly,” the wet nurse said, “but I once went to a large restaurant on Rue Saint-Honoré.”
In the shop, I saw how they made caramel from melted sugar and cream. It smelled wonderful, and I always...