There are always new shoots on the fungus, and new shades of
yellow all over it. I cannot keep count of them, though I have
tried conscientiously.

It is the strangest yellow, that wall-paper! It makes me
think of all the yellow things I ever saw--not beautiful ones
like buttercups, but old foul, bad yellow things.

But there is something else about that paper--the smell! I
noticed it the moment we came into the room, but with so much air
and sun it was not bad. Now we have had a week of fog and rain,
and whether the windows are open or not, the smell is here.

It creeps all over the house.

I find it hovering in the dining-room, skulking in the
parlor, hiding in the hall, lying in wait for me on the stairs.

It gets into my hair.

Even when I go to ride, if I turn my head suddenly and
surprise it--there is that smell!

Such a peculiar odor, too! I have spent hours in trying to
analyze it, to find what it smelled like.

It is not bad--at first, and very gentle, but quite the
subtlest, most enduring odor I ever met.