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src/epub/text/simmons-saturday-night.xhtml

@@ -58,7 +58,7 @@
 			<p>“Here, you all,” called the lady addressed as Lillie, “the beer’s getting cold.” <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Simmons and Violet turned back to the table, and <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Simmons accidentally stumbled over his carpet bag, which he had actually set down for a moment upon the floor. He fell sprawling across the table, striking the edge of the waiter with his hand and nearly turning Captain Clancy over in his chair, but spilling none of the beer.</p>
 			<p>“Excuse me,” he said, turning very red. “Got my foot caught. I’m as awkward as a cowboy at a dance. Well, here’s luck.”</p>
 			<p>Everybody drank the beer, and Lillie began to hum a little song. In about a minute Violet reeled around in her chair and tumbled off on the floor in a confused heap of white muslin, blondined hair and black stockings.</p>
-			<p>Captain Clancy seemed much vexed. He shot a steel blue flash from his eyes at Lillie and said something very much like “d⁠⸺n it” to himself.</p>
+			<p>Captain Clancy seemed much vexed. He shot a steel blue flash from his eyes at Lillie and said something very much like “d⁠⸺⁠n it” to himself.</p>
 			<p>“Great heavens!” cried <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Simmons, “this lady has fainted. Call a doctor, or get some water or somethin’ quick.”</p>
 			<p>“Say,” said Lillie, lighting a cigarette, “don’t get woozy. She’ll sleep it off. You gents get out for a while. Say, J-Mister, tell the bartender to send Sam up as you go out. Good night.”</p>
 			<p>“We had better go,” said the captain.</p>