As soon as she enters the house, I reach for her head to give her a kiss. She sniffs mu hands. “You’ve cleaned the toilets,” she says. And then she reaches for my head. “You’ve washed your hair,” she says. At last she reaches for my belt, pulls it toward her, and takes a sniff. “You’ve put on fresh underpants,” she says. The nose. Truffle dogs around Motovun would be ashamed of her prowess.