The air smelt differently, and the feeling of space was overwhelming.

The air too smelt more freshly than down beside the marsh.

A white glimmer could be seen coming through some opening far above, and the air smelt sweeter.

The air, for all its impurities, had never smelt quite so sweet.

The air out of the hole smelt like it had been simmering in there for a good long while.

The air smelt sweet and strange, yet common to his experience.

The air smelt unpleasant and it was very cold.

But the air inside smelt terrible and he could not breathe.

The air smelted good when I opened the faceplate again, and everything was silent.

They dragged their breathers down, but the air smelt wrong.