[Editorial] which-ever -> whichever

src/epub/text/a-tempered-wind.xhtml

@@ -17,7 +17,7 @@
 			<p>“I learned under Silver,” I said; “I don’t begrudge him the lead. But what’s your graft, son? I admit that the phantom flight of the non-existing animals at which you remarked ‘Whoa!’ has puzzled me somewhat. How do you win out on the trick?”</p>
 			<p>Buckingham Skinner blushed.</p>
 			<p>“Pocket money,” says he; “that’s all. I am temporarily unfinanced. This little coup de rye straw is good for forty dollars in a town of this size. How do I work it? Why, I involve myself, as you perceive, in the loathsome apparel of the rural dub. Thus embalmed I am Jonas Stubblefield⁠—a name impossible to improve upon. I repair noisily to the office of some loan company conveniently located in the third-floor, front. There I lay my hat and yarn gloves on the floor and ask to mortgage my farm for $2,000 to pay for my sister’s musical education in Europe. Loans like that always suit the loan companies. It’s ten to one that when the note falls due the foreclosure will be leading the semiquavers by a couple of lengths.</p>
-			<p>“Well, sir, I reach in my pocket for the abstract of title; but I suddenly hear my team running away. I run to the window and emit the word⁠—or exclamation, which-ever it may be⁠—viz, ‘Whoa!’ Then I rush downstairs and down the street, returning in a few minutes. ‘Dang them mules,’ I says; ‘they done run away and busted the doubletree and two traces. Now I got to hoof it home, for I never brought no money along. Reckon we’ll talk about that loan some other time, gen’lemen.’</p>
+			<p>“Well, sir, I reach in my pocket for the abstract of title; but I suddenly hear my team running away. I run to the window and emit the word⁠—or exclamation, whichever it may be⁠—viz, ‘Whoa!’ Then I rush downstairs and down the street, returning in a few minutes. ‘Dang them mules,’ I says; ‘they done run away and busted the doubletree and two traces. Now I got to hoof it home, for I never brought no money along. Reckon we’ll talk about that loan some other time, gen’lemen.’</p>
 			<p>“Then I spreads out my tarpaulin, like the Israelites, and waits for the manna to drop.</p>
 			<p>“ ‘Why, no, <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Stubblefield,’ says the lobster-colored party in the specs and dotted pique vest; ‘oblige us by accepting this ten-dollar bill until tomorrow. Get your harness repaired and call in at ten. We’ll be pleased to accommodate you in the matter of this loan.’</p>
 			<p>“It’s a slight thing,” says Buckingham Skinner, modest, “but, as I said, only for temporary loose change.”</p>