.
I've discovered they are:

_Nicht wahr,
Wundervoll,
Naturlich,
Herrlich,
Ich gratuliere,
and
Doch_.

And the only one with the faintest approach to contentiousness, or
acidity, or any of the qualities that don't endear the stranger to the
indigenous, is _doch_.

My bedroom looks very clean, and is roomy and comfortable, and I shall
be able to work very happily in it, I'm sure. I can't tell you how
much excited I am at getting here and going to study under the great
Kloster! You darling one, you beloved mother, stinting yourself,
scraping your own life bare, so as to give me this chance. _Won't_ I
work. And _work_. _And_ work. And in a year--no, we won't call it a
year, we'll say in a few months--I shall come back to you for good,
carrying my sheaves with me. Oh, I hope there will be sheaves,--big
ones, beautiful ones, to lay at your blessed feet! Now I'll run down
and post this. I saw a letter-box a few yards down the street. And
then I'll have a bath and go to bed for a few hours, I think. It is
still only nine o'clock in the morning, so I have hours and hours of
today before me, and can practise this afternoon and write to you again
this evening. So good-bye for a few hours, my precious mother.

Your happy Chris.

_May 28th. Evening_.

It's very funny here, but quite comfortable. You needn't give a
thought to my comforts, mother darling. There's a lot to eat, and if
I'm not in clover I'm certainly in feathers,--you should see the
immense sackful of them in a dark red sateen bag on my bed! As you
have been in Germany trying to get poor Dad well in all those
_Kurorten_, you'll understand how queer my bedroom looks, like a very
solemn and gloomy drawingroom into which it has suddenly occurred to
somebody to put a bed. It is a tall room: tall of ceiling, which is
painted at the corners with blue clouds and pink cherubim--unmistakable
Germans--and tall of door, of which there are three, and tall of
window, of which there are two. The windows have long dark curtains of
rep or something woolly, and long coffee-coloured lace curtains as
well; and there's a big green majolica stove in one corner; and there's
a dark brown wall-paper with gilt flowers on it; and an elaborate
chandelier hanging from a coloured plaster rosette in the middle of the
ceiling, all twisty and gilt, but it doesn't light,--Wanda, the maid of
all work, brings me a petroleum lamp with a green glass s