From 3b8d84e2a1ad33e98260b6b54c932550541e9bf6 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Alex Cabal Date: Thu, 27 Aug 2020 16:56:51 -0500 Subject: [PATCH] Move punctuation outside italics --- src/epub/text/witches-loaves.xhtml | 2 +- 1 file changed, 1 insertion(+), 1 deletion(-) diff --git a/src/epub/text/witches-loaves.xhtml b/src/epub/text/witches-loaves.xhtml index 83719af..c9809e8 100644 --- a/src/epub/text/witches-loaves.xhtml +++ b/src/epub/text/witches-loaves.xhtml @@ -47,7 +47,7 @@

The young man tried to draw him away.

“I vill not go,” he said angrily, “else I shall told her.”

He made a bass drum of Miss Martha’s counter.

-

“You haf shpoilt me,” he cried, his blue eyes blazing behind his spectacles. “I vill tell you. You vas von meddingsome old cat!”

+

“You haf shpoilt me,” he cried, his blue eyes blazing behind his spectacles. “I vill tell you. You vas von meddingsome old cat!”

Miss Martha leaned weakly against the shelves and laid one hand on her blue-dotted silk waist. The young man took the other by the collar.

“Come on,” he said, “you’ve said enough.” He dragged the angry one out at the door to the sidewalk, and then came back.

“Guess you ought to be told, ma’am,” he said, “what the row is about. That’s Blumberger. He’s an architectural draftsman. I work in the same office with him.