1 As I went through the passage the smell grew closer and heavier.
2 Whilst he was speaking, Lucy had been examining the flowers and smelling them.
3 There was an earthy smell, as of some dry miasma, which came through the fouler air.
4 The decanter of sherry was on the table half full, but there was a queer, acrid smell about.
5 He could not have lain there long, for the earthy smell would have passed away in a few hours.
6 The earth smelled musty and close; but we did not somehow seem to mind, for our attention was concentrated on the Professor.
7 It smell so like the waters of Lethe, and of that fountain of youth that the Conquistadores sought for in the Floridas, and find him all too late.
8 There was no need to think them dead, for their stertorous breathing and the acrid smell of laudanum in the room left no doubt as to their condition.
9 I flew downstairs and returned with it, taking care to smell and taste it, lest it, too, were drugged like the decanter of sherry which I found on the table.
10 Sweet it was in one sense, honey-sweet, and sent the same tingling through the nerves as her voice, but with a bitter underlying the sweet, a bitter offensiveness, as one smells in blood.
11 First he fastened up the windows and latched them securely; next, taking a handful of the flowers, he rubbed them all over the sashes, as though to ensure that every whiff of air that might get in would be laden with the garlic smell.
12 He went to and fro, as if patrolling the house, and was never out of sight of the room where Lucy lay in her coffin, strewn with the wild garlic flowers, which sent, through the odour of lily and rose, a heavy, overpowering smell into the night.