[Waifs] [Editorial] every one -> everyone

src/epub/text/confessions-of-a-humorist.xhtml

@@ -37,7 +37,7 @@
 			<p>And then I became a harpy, a Moloch, a Jonah, a vampire, to my acquaintances. Anxious, haggard, greedy, I stood among them like a veritable killjoy. Let a bright saying, a witty comparison, a piquant phrase fall from their lips and I was after it like a hound springing upon a bone. I dared not trust my memory; but, turning aside guiltily and meanly, I would make a note of it in my ever-present memorandum book or upon my cuff for my own future use.</p>
 			<p>My friends regarded me in sorrow and wonder. I was not the same man. Where once I had furnished them entertainment and jollity, I now preyed upon them. No jests from me ever bid for their smiles now. They were too precious. I could not afford to dispense gratuitously the means of my livelihood.</p>
 			<p>I was a lugubrious fox praising the singing of my friends, the crow’s, that they might drop from their beaks the morsels of wit that I coveted.</p>
-			<p>Nearly every one began to avoid me. I even forgot how to smile, not even paying that much for the sayings I appropriated.</p>
+			<p>Nearly everyone began to avoid me. I even forgot how to smile, not even paying that much for the sayings I appropriated.</p>
 			<p>No persons, places, times, or subjects were exempt from my plundering in search of material. Even in church my demoralized fancy went hunting among the solemn aisles and pillars for spoil.</p>
 			<p>Did the minister give out the long-meter doxology, at once I began: “Doxology⁠—sockdology⁠—sockdolager⁠—meter⁠—meet her.”</p>
 			<p>The sermon ran through my mental sieve, its precepts filtering unheeded, could I but glean a suggestion of a pun or a bon mot. The solemnest anthems of the choir were but an accompaniment to my thoughts as I conceived new changes to ring upon the ancient comicalities concerning the jealousies of soprano, tenor, and basso.</p>