[Waifs] Move punctuation inside italics

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@@ -23,7 +23,7 @@
 			<p>“Then why do they become infuriated and make threats of lynching?” asked the New Yorker.</p>
 			<p>“To assure the motorman,” answered the tall man, “that he is safe. If they really wanted to do him up they would go into the houses and drop bricks on him from the third-story windows.”</p>
 			<p>“New Yorkers are not cowards,” said the other man, a little stiffly.</p>
-			<p>“Not one at a time,” agreed the tall man, promptly. “You’ve got a fine lot of single-handed scrappers in your town. I’d rather fight three of you than one; and I’d go up against all the Gas Trust’s victims in a bunch before I’d pass two citizens on a dark corner, with my watch chain showing. When you get rounded up in a bunch you lose your nerve. Get you in crowds and you’re easy. Ask the ‘L’ road guards and George B. Cortelyou and the tintype booths at Coney Island. Divided you stand, united you fall. <i xml:lang="la">E pluribus nihil</i>. Whenever one of your mobs surrounds a man and begins to holler, ‘Lynch him!’ he says to himself, “Oh, dear, I suppose I must look pale to please the boys, but I will, forsooth, let my life insurance premium lapse tomorrow. This is a sure tip for me to play Methuselah straight across the board in the next handicap.’</p>
+			<p>“Not one at a time,” agreed the tall man, promptly. “You’ve got a fine lot of single-handed scrappers in your town. I’d rather fight three of you than one; and I’d go up against all the Gas Trust’s victims in a bunch before I’d pass two citizens on a dark corner, with my watch chain showing. When you get rounded up in a bunch you lose your nerve. Get you in crowds and you’re easy. Ask the ‘L’ road guards and George B. Cortelyou and the tintype booths at Coney Island. Divided you stand, united you fall. <i xml:lang="la">E pluribus nihil.</i> Whenever one of your mobs surrounds a man and begins to holler, ‘Lynch him!’ he says to himself, “Oh, dear, I suppose I must look pale to please the boys, but I will, forsooth, let my life insurance premium lapse tomorrow. This is a sure tip for me to play Methuselah straight across the board in the next handicap.’</p>
 			<p>“I can imagine the tortured feelings of a prisoner in the hands of New York policemen when an infuriated mob demands that he be turned over to them for lynching. ‘For God’s sake, officers,’ cries the distracted wretch, ‘have ye hearts of stone, that ye will not let them wrest me from ye?’</p>
 			<p>“ ‘Sorry, Jimmy,’ says one of the policemen, ‘but it won’t do. There’s three of us⁠—me and Darrel and the plain-clothes man; and there’s only sivin thousand of the mob. How’d we explain it at the office if they took ye? Jist chase the infuriated aggregation around the corner, Darrel, and we’ll be movin’ along to the station.’ ”</p>
 			<p>“Some of our gatherings of excited citizens have not been so harmless,” said the New Yorker, with a faint note of civic pride.</p>

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@@ -93,7 +93,7 @@
 			<p>“I have been revolving it in my head,” said George.</p>
 			<p>He brought the coffee pot forward heavily. Then bravely the big platter of pork and beans. Then somberly the potatoes. Then profoundly the biscuits. “I have been revolving it in my mind. There ain’t no use waitin’ any longer for Swengalley. Might as well eat now.”</p>
 			<p>From my excellent vantage-point on the couch I watched the progress of that meal. Ross, muddled, glowering, disappointed; Etienne, eternally blandishing, attentive, ogling; Miss Adams, nervous, picking at her food, hesitant about answering questions, almost hysterical; now and then the solid, flitting shadow of the cook, passing behind their backs like a Dreadnaught in a fog.</p>
-			<p>I used to own a clock which gurgled in its throat three minutes before it struck the hour. I know, therefore, the slow freight of Anticipation. For I have awakened at three in the morning, heard the clock gurgle, and waited those three minutes for the three strokes I knew were to come. <i xml:lang="fr">Alors</i>. In Ross’s ranch house that night the slow freight of Climax whistled in the distance.</p>
+			<p>I used to own a clock which gurgled in its throat three minutes before it struck the hour. I know, therefore, the slow freight of Anticipation. For I have awakened at three in the morning, heard the clock gurgle, and waited those three minutes for the three strokes I knew were to come. <i xml:lang="fr">Alors.</i> In Ross’s ranch house that night the slow freight of Climax whistled in the distance.</p>
 			<p>Etienne began it after supper. Miss Adams had suddenly displayed a lively interest in the kitchen layout and I could see her in there, chatting brightly at George⁠—not with him⁠—the while he ducked his head and rattled his pans.</p>
 			<p>“My fren’,” said Etienne, exhaling a large cloud from his cigarette and patting Ross lightly on the shoulder with a bediamonded hand which, hung limp from a yard or more of bony arm, “I see I mus’ be frank with you. Firs’, because we are rivals; second, because you take these matters so serious. I⁠—I am Frenchman. I love the women”⁠—he threw back his curls, bared his yellow teeth, and blew an unsavory kiss toward the kitchen. “It is, I suppose, a trait of my nation. All Frenchmen love the women⁠—pretty women. Now, look: Here I am!” He spread out his arms. “Cold outside! I detes’ the col-l-l! Snow! I abominate the mees-ser-rhable snow! Two men! This⁠—” pointing to me⁠—“an’ this!” Pointing to’ Ross. “I am distracted! For two whole days I stan’ at the window an’ tear my ‘air! I am nervous, upset, pr-r-ro-foun’ly distress inside my ‘ead! An’ suddenly⁠—be’old! A woman, a nice, pretty, charming, innocen’ young woman! I, naturally, rejoice. I become myself again⁠—gay, light-‘earted, ‘appy. I address myself to mademoiselle; it passes the time. That, m’sieu’, is wot the women are for⁠—pass the time! Entertainment⁠—like the music, like the wine!</p>
 			<p>“They appeal to the mood, the caprice, the temperamen’. To play with thees woman, follow her through her humor, pursue her⁠—ah! that is the mos’ delightful way to sen’ the hours about their business.”</p>