The opening is ambrosial and frankly sensual, a Rococo burst of sweet, syrupy peaches, mandarin orange, and tuberose petals so juicy sweet that you will want to gulp it down greedily, heedless of the red juice staining your mouth. Bathed in a cloud of marshmallow-soft musk, the fruit and flowers slowly become more abstract and hazier in feel, but thanks to a touch of cool, powdery iris, it never loses its sparkle. By the time you get to the nutty, savory woodiness of the sandalwood in the base, soaking up all the rich, buttery excesses of gardenia, fruit, and cream, you will have been completely won over by the inviting deliciousness of Hundred Silent Ways. It is the rare fruity floral that seduces you without so much as a word.