y add what has so far come to my notice accidentally:

On 4 October, 1916, I said: "Lola, do you like to smell people?" "Yes!"
"All people?" "No!" "How do I smell to-day?" "Tired." "Lola," I said,
"do I sometimes smell horrid?" "Arger Eifersucht!" ( = great, or strong
jealousy) "So you smell what I feel and when it changes?" "Yes." "With
every one?" "Yes." "With horses too?" "No." "With dogs?" "Yes! yes!!"

On 5 October I asked: "Lola, do I smell the same?" "No!" "How do I
smell?" "Angst" ( = fear, or anxiety). She evidently meant that I was
uneasy on account of the amount of work.

"Lola," I continued, "how does Betty smell?" "Nach Angst" ( = of
anxiety) "And anything more?" "Auch mued" ( = also tired). [N.B. Betty
had held out the palms of her hands to the dog.] "And anything more?"
"Ja--traurig" ( = yes--sad.) And I found later that this had been the
true state of Betty's feelings at the time.

Lola was bright and fresh and this encouraged me to continue:

"What does Magda smell like?" "Afe." "Is that right?" "No--a f." "And
what more?" "g e r e g t" "afgeregt? Isn't one letter wrong?" "Yes."
"Which?" "1" "Then what should it be?" "Au." "Then you mean aufgeregt?"
(excited) "Yes!"

6 October. "Lola, do I smell different to-day?" "Yes--strong" "Yes! go
on?" "O w e." "We?" (weh = pain) "Like pain?" "No." "You meant like the
exclamation--'O weh'?" "Yes!" "But what do I smell of?" "Of surogat"
(!) The use of this word by Lola seemed to be abnormal and mysterious,
so I said "I am sure you have never heard that word from me!" and she
replied "No!" "Tell me the name of the surogat?" "1"--(which stands for
"I will not tell!") "Tell me! for you know the word for it!" I
insisted. "Yes!" "_Please tell me_?" "1"--"I will not be angry," I
pleaded, "I will give you a biscuit." But Lola returned again a
reluctant "1." "What is this 1 to mean, Lola--is it yes or no?" "4" ( =
mittel). She would not look at me and while seemingly desirous of
"insinuating" something, was yet not quite ready to make a frank
acknowledgment of the implication. "Lola, tell me!" I exclaimed, and
she rapped "Luigen." "_Luegen_?" (lying) "Ja--nein." "Lola! I won't
be angry; do I smell of lies?" "Yes." "Here at home?" "Minchen."
(Muenchen = Munich.) And then it suddenly dawned on me; an hour earlier
I had told the dog that I was going to Munich and that perhaps she
might go with me. Yet at the same time I was by no means so sure that
this could be managed