It was composed (if such a thing could be) of two mingling exhalations, which were separately-discoverable exhalations nevertheless.

This strange blending of odours consisted of something faintly and unpleasantly aromatic, mixed with another underlying smell, so unutterably sickening that he threw open the window, and put his head out into the fresh air, unable to endure the horribly infected atmosphere for a moment longer.
The French proprietor joined his English friend, with his cigar already lit.

He started back in dismay at a sight terrible to his countrymen in general--the sight of an open window.

'You English people are perfectly mad on the subject of fresh air!' he exclaimed.

'We shall catch our deaths of cold.' Francis turned, and looked at him in astonishment.