Update semantics

src/epub/text/identified.xhtml

@@ -12,7 +12,7 @@
 			<p>“You will have to be identified,” said the cashier, “by someone who knows your name to be Henry <abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">B.</abbr> Saunders.”</p>
 			<p>“But I don’t know anybody in Houston,” said the stranger. “Here’s a lot of letters addressed to me, and a telegram from my firm, and a lot of business cards. Won’t they be identification enough?”</p>
 			<p>“I am sorry,” said the cashier, “but while I have no doubt that you are the party, our rule is to require better identification.”</p>
-			<p>The man unbuttoned his vest and showed the initial, <abbr class="name">H. B. S.</abbr>, on his shirt. “Does that go?” he asked. The cashier shook his head. “You might have Henry B. Saunders’ letters, and his papers, and also his shirt on, without being the right man. We are forced to be very careful.”</p>
+			<p>The man unbuttoned his vest and showed the initial, <abbr epub:type="z3998:personal-name">H. B. S.</abbr>, on his shirt. “Does that go?” he asked. The cashier shook his head. “You might have Henry B. Saunders’ letters, and his papers, and also his shirt on, without being the right man. We are forced to be very careful.”</p>
 			<p>The stranger tore open his shirt front, and exhibited a large mustard plaster, covering his entire chest. “There,” he shouted, “if I wasn’t Henry B. Saunders, do you suppose I would go around wearing one of his mustard plasters stuck all over me? Do you think I would carry my impersonation of anybody far enough to blister myself to look like him? Gimme tens and fives, now, I haven’t got time to fool any more.”</p>
 			<p>The cashier hesitated and then shoved out the money. After the stranger had gone, the official rubbed his chin gently and said softly to himself: “That plaster might be somebody else’s after all, but no doubt it’s all right.”</p>
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src/epub/text/on-behalf-of-the-management.xhtml

@@ -41,7 +41,7 @@
 			<p>“Then Denver draws his chair up close and gives out his scheme.</p>
 			<p>“ ‘Sully,’ says he, with seriousness and levity, ‘I’ve been a manager of one thing and another for over twenty years. That’s what I was cut out for⁠—to have somebody else to put up the money and look after the repairs and the police and taxes while I run the business. I never had a dollar of my own invested in my life. I wouldn’t know how it felt to have the dealer rake in a coin of mine. But I can handle other people’s stuff and manage other people’s enterprises. I’ve had an ambition to get hold of something big⁠—something higher than hotels and lumberyards and local politics. I want to be manager of something way up⁠—like a railroad or a diamond trust or an automobile factory. Now here comes this little man from the tropics with just what I want, and he’s offered me the job.’</p>
 			<p>“ ‘What job?’ I asks. ‘Is he going to revive the Georgia Minstrels or open a cigar store?’</p>
-			<p>“ ‘He’s no ‘coon,’ says Denver. ‘He’s General Rompiro⁠—General Josey Alfonso Sapolio Jew-Ann Rompiro⁠—he has his cards printed by a news-ticker. He’s the real thing, Sully, and he wants me to manage his campaign⁠—he wants Denver <abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">C.</abbr> Galloway for a president-maker. Think of that, Sully! Old Denver romping down to the tropics, plucking lotus-flowers and pineapples with one hand and making presidents with the other! Won’t it make Uncle Mark Hanna mad? And I want you to go too, Sully. You can help me more than any man I know. I’ve been herding that brown man for a month in the hotel so he wouldn’t stray down Fourteenth Street and get roped in by that crowd of refugee tamale-eaters down there. And he’s landed, and <abbr class="name">D. C. G.</abbr> is manager of General <abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">J. A. S. J.</abbr> Rompiro’s presidential campaign in the great republic of⁠—what’s its name?’</p>
+			<p>“ ‘He’s no ‘coon,’ says Denver. ‘He’s General Rompiro⁠—General Josey Alfonso Sapolio Jew-Ann Rompiro⁠—he has his cards printed by a news-ticker. He’s the real thing, Sully, and he wants me to manage his campaign⁠—he wants Denver <abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">C.</abbr> Galloway for a president-maker. Think of that, Sully! Old Denver romping down to the tropics, plucking lotus-flowers and pineapples with one hand and making presidents with the other! Won’t it make Uncle Mark Hanna mad? And I want you to go too, Sully. You can help me more than any man I know. I’ve been herding that brown man for a month in the hotel so he wouldn’t stray down Fourteenth Street and get roped in by that crowd of refugee tamale-eaters down there. And he’s landed, and <abbr epub:type="z3998:personal-name">D. C. G.</abbr> is manager of General <abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">J. A. S. J.</abbr> Rompiro’s presidential campaign in the great republic of⁠—what’s its name?’</p>
 			<p>“Denver gets down an atlas from a shelf, and we have a look at the afflicted country. ’Twas a dark blue one, on the west coast, about the size of a special delivery stamp.</p>
 			<p>“ ‘From what the General tells me,’ says Denver, ‘and from what I can gather from the encyclopaedia and by conversing with the janitor of the Astor Library, it’ll be as easy to handle the vote of that country as it would be for Tammany to get a man named Geoghan appointed on the White Wings force.’</p>
 			<p>“ ‘Why don’t General Rumptyro stay at home,’ says I, ‘and manage his own canvass?’</p>

src/epub/text/the-hypotheses-of-failure.xhtml

@@ -94,7 +94,7 @@
 			<p>“Billings!” shouted the now thoroughly moved client. “I’ll Billings you, you old idiot!”</p>
 			<p>Turning, he hurled his satchel with fury at the lawyer’s head. It struck that astounded peacemaker between the eyes, causing him to stagger backward a pace or two. When Lawyer Gooch recovered his wits he saw that his client had disappeared. Rushing to the window, he leaned out, and saw the recreant gathering himself up from the top of a shed upon which he had dropped from the second-story window. Without stopping to collect his hat he then plunged downward the remaining ten feet to the alley, up which he flew with prodigious celerity until the surrounding building swallowed him up from view.</p>
 			<p>Lawyer Gooch passed his hand tremblingly across his brow. It was a habitual act with him, serving to clear his thoughts. Perhaps also it now seemed to soothe the spot where a very hard alligator-hide satchel had struck.</p>
-			<p>The satchel lay upon the floor, wide open, with its contents spilled about. Mechanically, Lawyer Gooch stooped to gather up the articles. The first was a collar; and the omniscient eye of the man of law perceived, wonderingly, the initials <abbr class="name">H. K. J.</abbr> marked upon it. Then came a comb, a brush, a folded map, and a piece of soap. Lastly, a handful of old business letters, addressed⁠—every one of them⁠—to “Henry <abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">K.</abbr> Jessup, <abbr class="eoc">Esq.</abbr>”</p>
+			<p>The satchel lay upon the floor, wide open, with its contents spilled about. Mechanically, Lawyer Gooch stooped to gather up the articles. The first was a collar; and the omniscient eye of the man of law perceived, wonderingly, the initials <abbr epub:type="z3998:personal-name">H. K. J.</abbr> marked upon it. Then came a comb, a brush, a folded map, and a piece of soap. Lastly, a handful of old business letters, addressed⁠—every one of them⁠—to “Henry <abbr epub:type="z3998:given-name">K.</abbr> Jessup, <abbr class="eoc">Esq.</abbr>”</p>
 			<p>Lawyer Gooch closed the satchel, and set it upon the table. He hesitated for a moment, and then put on his hat and walked into the office boy’s anteroom.</p>
 			<p>“Archibald,” he said mildly, as he opened the hall door, “I am going around to the Supreme Court rooms. In five minutes you may step into the inner office, and inform the lady who is waiting there that”⁠—here Lawyer Gooch made use of the vernacular⁠—“that there’s nothing doing.”</p>
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@@ -13,7 +13,7 @@
 			<p>I say I dragged him forth, and held him till the last hickory leg and waving goatee had stumbled past. And then I hustled him out of the crowd into a cool interior; for the Gate City was stirred that day, and the hand-organs wisely eliminated “Marching Through Georgia” from their repertories.</p>
 			<p>“Now, what deviltry are you up to?” I asked of O’Keefe when there were a table and things in glasses between us.</p>
 			<p>O’Keefe wiped his heated face and instigated a commotion among the floating ice in his glass before he chose to answer.</p>
-			<p>“I am assisting at the wake,” said he, “of the only nation on earth that ever did me a good turn. As one gentleman to another, I am ratifying and celebrating the foreign policy of the late Jefferson Davis, as fine a statesman as ever settled the financial question of a country. Equal ratio⁠—that was his platform⁠—a barrel of money for a barrel of flour⁠—a pair of $20 bills for a pair of boots⁠—a hatful of currency for a new hat⁠—say, ain’t that simple compared with <abbr class="name">W. J. B.</abbr>’s little old oxidized plank?”</p>
+			<p>“I am assisting at the wake,” said he, “of the only nation on earth that ever did me a good turn. As one gentleman to another, I am ratifying and celebrating the foreign policy of the late Jefferson Davis, as fine a statesman as ever settled the financial question of a country. Equal ratio⁠—that was his platform⁠—a barrel of money for a barrel of flour⁠—a pair of $20 bills for a pair of boots⁠—a hatful of currency for a new hat⁠—say, ain’t that simple compared with <abbr epub:type="z3998:personal-name">W. J. B.</abbr>’s little old oxidized plank?”</p>
 			<p>“What talk is this?” I asked. “Your financial digression is merely a subterfuge. Why were you marching in the ranks of the Confederate Veterans?”</p>
 			<p>“Because, my lad,” answered O’Keefe, “the Confederate Government in its might and power interposed to protect and defend Barnard O’Keefe against immediate and dangerous assassination at the hands of a bloodthirsty foreign country after the Unites States of America had overruled his appeal for protection, and had instructed Private Secretary Cortelyou to reduce his estimate of the Republican majority for 1905 by one vote.”</p>
 			<p>“Come, Barney,” said I, “the Confederate States of America has been out of existence nearly forty years. You do not look older yourself. When was it that the deceased government exerted its foreign policy in your behalf?”</p>