“No, nothing like that.”
“Lavender water?”
“Nay, nay.”
“Millefleurs?”
“Nay, nothing like it. Here, I’ve got it; something like Paddy Chooly.”
“Patchouli?”
“That’s it. I knew it was something about Paddy. Well, sir, if you’ll believe me, that stuff smelt just like black beetles in a kitchen cupboard near the fire. I don’t mind the smell o’ pearl soup.”
“But I want to see number one emptied. When is it to be?”
“When it’s quite ripe, and it aren’t ripe yet.”
“Takes a long time, doesn’t it?” said Carey.