His employer instantly asked him if he smelt anything.
'I smell your cigar.

Delicious! Give me one directly!' 'Wait a minute.

Besides my cigar, do you smell anything else--vile, abominable, overpowering, indescribable, never-never-never-smelt before ?' The scene-painter appeared to be puzzled by the vehement energy of the language addressed to him.

'The room is as fresh and sweet as a room can be,' he answered.

As he spoke, he looked back with astonishment at Francis Westwick, standing outside in the corridor, and eyeing the interior of the bedchamber with an expression of undisguised disgust.
The Parisian director approached his English colleague, and looked at him with grave and anxious scrutiny.
'You see, my friend, here are two of us, with as good noses as yours, who smell nothing.