Add z3998:name-title semantic to some abbreviations

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@@ -9,7 +9,7 @@
 		<section id="chapter-9" epub:type="chapter">
 			<hgroup>
 				<h2 epub:type="ordinal z3998:roman">IX</h2>
-				<p epub:type="title"><abbr>Dr.</abbr> Bauerstein</p>
+				<p epub:type="title"><abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Bauerstein</p>
 			</hgroup>
 			<p>I had had no opportunity as yet of passing on Poirot’s message to Lawrence. But now, as I strolled out on the lawn, still nursing a grudge against my friend’s highhandedness, I saw Lawrence on the croquet lawn, aimlessly knocking a couple of very ancient balls about, with a still more ancient mallet.</p>
 			<p>It struck me that it would be a good opportunity to deliver my message. Otherwise, Poirot himself might relieve me of it. It was true that I did not quite gather its purport, but I flattered myself that by Lawrence’s reply, and perhaps a little skillful cross-examination on my part, I should soon perceive its significance. Accordingly I accosted him.</p>
@@ -39,18 +39,18 @@
 			<p>He shook his head.</p>
 			<p>“No,” he said musingly, “I don’t. I⁠—I wish I did.”</p>
 			<p>The boom of the gong sounded from the house, and we went in together. Poirot had been asked by John to remain to lunch, and was already seated at the table.</p>
-			<p>By tacit consent, all mention of the tragedy was barred. We conversed on the war, and other outside topics. But after the cheese and biscuits had been handed round, and Dorcas had left the room, Poirot suddenly leant forward to <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Cavendish.</p>
+			<p>By tacit consent, all mention of the tragedy was barred. We conversed on the war, and other outside topics. But after the cheese and biscuits had been handed round, and Dorcas had left the room, Poirot suddenly leant forward to <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Cavendish.</p>
 			<p>“Pardon me, madame, for recalling unpleasant memories, but I have a little idea”⁠—Poirot’s “little ideas” were becoming a perfect byword⁠—“and would like to ask one or two questions.”</p>
 			<p>“Of me? Certainly.”</p>
-			<p>“You are too amiable, madame. What I want to ask is this: the door leading into <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Inglethorp’s room from that of Mademoiselle Cynthia, it was bolted, you say?”</p>
+			<p>“You are too amiable, madame. What I want to ask is this: the door leading into <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Inglethorp’s room from that of Mademoiselle Cynthia, it was bolted, you say?”</p>
 			<p>“Certainly it was bolted,” replied Mary Cavendish, rather surprised. “I said so at the inquest.”</p>
 			<p>“Bolted?”</p>
 			<p>“Yes.” She looked perplexed.</p>
 			<p>“I mean,” explained Poirot, “you are sure it was bolted, and not merely locked?”</p>
 			<p>“Oh, I see what you mean. No, I don’t know. I said bolted, meaning that it was fastened, and I could not open it, but I believe all the doors were found bolted on the inside.”</p>
 			<p>“Still, as far as you are concerned, the door might equally well have been locked?”</p>
 			<p>“Oh, yes.”</p>
-			<p>“You yourself did not happen to notice, madame, when you entered <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Inglethorp’s room, whether that door was bolted or not?”</p>
+			<p>“You yourself did not happen to notice, madame, when you entered <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Inglethorp’s room, whether that door was bolted or not?”</p>
 			<p>“I⁠—I believe it was.”</p>
 			<p>“But you did not see it?”</p>
 			<p>“No. I⁠—never looked.”</p>
@@ -136,13 +136,13 @@
 			<p>“Can’t you guess?”</p>
 			<p>“No.”</p>
 			<p>I looked cautiously round, and lowered my voice.</p>
-			<p>“<abbr>Dr.</abbr> Bauerstein!” I whispered.</p>
+			<p>“<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Bauerstein!” I whispered.</p>
 			<p>“Impossible!”</p>
 			<p>“Not at all.”</p>
 			<p>“But what earthly interest could he have in my mother’s death?”</p>
 			<p>“That I don’t see,” I confessed, “but I’ll tell you this: Poirot thinks so.”</p>
 			<p>“Poirot? Does he? How do you know?”</p>
-			<p>I told him of Poirot’s intense excitement on hearing that <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Bauerstein had been at Styles on the fatal night, and added:</p>
+			<p>I told him of Poirot’s intense excitement on hearing that <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Bauerstein had been at Styles on the fatal night, and added:</p>
 			<p>“He said twice: ‘That alters everything.’ And I’ve been thinking. You know Inglethorp said he had put down the coffee in the hall? Well, it was just then that Bauerstein arrived. Isn’t it possible that, as Inglethorp brought him through the hall, the doctor dropped something into the coffee in passing?”</p>
 			<p>“H’m,” said John. “It would have been very risky.”</p>
 			<p>“Yes, but it was possible.”</p>
@@ -158,12 +158,12 @@
 			<p>“He knows more about poisons than almost anybody,” I explained. “Well, my idea is, that perhaps he’s found some way of making strychnine tasteless. Or it may not have been strychnine at all, but some obscure drug no one has ever heard of, which produces much the same symptoms.”</p>
 			<p>“H’m, yes, that might be,” said John. “But look here, how could he have got at the cocoa? That wasn’t downstairs?”</p>
 			<p>“No, it wasn’t,” I admitted reluctantly.</p>
-			<p>And then, suddenly, a dreadful possibility flashed through my mind. I hoped and prayed it would not occur to John also. I glanced sideways at him. He was frowning perplexedly, and I drew a deep breath of relief, for the terrible thought that had flashed across my mind was this: that <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Bauerstein might have had an accomplice.</p>
+			<p>And then, suddenly, a dreadful possibility flashed through my mind. I hoped and prayed it would not occur to John also. I glanced sideways at him. He was frowning perplexedly, and I drew a deep breath of relief, for the terrible thought that had flashed across my mind was this: that <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Bauerstein might have had an accomplice.</p>
 			<p>Yet surely it could not be! Surely no woman as beautiful as Mary Cavendish could be a murderess. Yet beautiful women had been known to poison.</p>
-			<p>And suddenly I remembered that first conversation at tea on the day of my arrival, and the gleam in her eyes as she had said that poison was a woman’s weapon. How agitated she had been on that fatal Tuesday evening! Had <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Inglethorp discovered something between her and Bauerstein, and threatened to tell her husband? Was it to stop that denunciation that the crime had been committed?</p>
+			<p>And suddenly I remembered that first conversation at tea on the day of my arrival, and the gleam in her eyes as she had said that poison was a woman’s weapon. How agitated she had been on that fatal Tuesday evening! Had <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Inglethorp discovered something between her and Bauerstein, and threatened to tell her husband? Was it to stop that denunciation that the crime had been committed?</p>
 			<p>Then I remembered that enigmatical conversation between Poirot and Evelyn Howard. Was this what they had meant? Was this the monstrous possibility that Evelyn had tried not to believe?</p>
 			<p>Yes, it all fitted in.</p>
-			<p>No wonder Miss Howard had suggested “hushing it up.” Now I understood that unfinished sentence of hers: “Emily herself⁠—” And in my heart I agreed with her. Would not <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Inglethorp have preferred to go unavenged rather than have such terrible dishonour fall upon the name of Cavendish.</p>
+			<p>No wonder Miss Howard had suggested “hushing it up.” Now I understood that unfinished sentence of hers: “Emily herself⁠—” And in my heart I agreed with her. Would not <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Inglethorp have preferred to go unavenged rather than have such terrible dishonour fall upon the name of Cavendish.</p>
 			<p>“There’s another thing,” said John suddenly, and the unexpected sound of his voice made me start guiltily. “Something which makes me doubt if what you say can be true.”</p>
 			<p>“What’s that?” I asked, thankful that he had gone away from the subject of how the poison could have been introduced into the cocoa.</p>
 			<p>“Why, the fact that Bauerstein demanded a postmortem. He needn’t have done so. Little Wilkins would have been quite content to let it go at heart disease.”</p>
@@ -179,10 +179,10 @@
 			<p>“It’s quite a mania with him.”</p>
 			<p>“Yes, isn’t it?”</p>
 			<p>We were silent for a minute or two, and then, glancing in the direction of Mary Cavendish, and dropping her voice, Cynthia said:</p>
-			<p>“<abbr>Mr.</abbr> Hastings.”</p>
+			<p>“<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Hastings.”</p>
 			<p>“Yes?”</p>
 			<p>“After tea, I want to talk to you.”</p>
-			<p>Her glance at Mary had set me thinking. I fancied that between these two there existed very little sympathy. For the first time, it occurred to me to wonder about the girl’s future. <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Inglethorp had made no provisions of any kind for her, but I imagined that John and Mary would probably insist on her making her home with them⁠—at any rate until the end of the war. John, I knew, was very fond of her, and would be sorry to let her go.</p>
+			<p>Her glance at Mary had set me thinking. I fancied that between these two there existed very little sympathy. For the first time, it occurred to me to wonder about the girl’s future. <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Inglethorp had made no provisions of any kind for her, but I imagined that John and Mary would probably insist on her making her home with them⁠—at any rate until the end of the war. John, I knew, was very fond of her, and would be sorry to let her go.</p>
 			<p>John, who had gone into the house, now reappeared. His good-natured face wore an unaccustomed frown of anger.</p>
 			<p>“Confound those detectives! I can’t think what they’re after! They’ve been in every room in the house⁠—turning things inside out, and upside down. It really is too bad! I suppose they took advantage of our all being out. I shall go for that fellow Japp, when I next see him!”</p>
 			<p>“Lot of Paul Prys,” grunted Miss Howard.</p>
@@ -191,14 +191,14 @@
 			<p>After tea, I invited Cynthia to come for a walk, and we sauntered off into the woods together.</p>
 			<p>“Well?” I inquired, as soon as we were protected from prying eyes by the leafy screen.</p>
 			<p>With a sigh, Cynthia flung herself down, and tossed off her hat. The sunlight, piercing through the branches, turned the auburn of her hair to quivering gold.</p>
-			<p>“<abbr>Mr.</abbr> Hastings⁠—you are always so kind, and you know such a lot.”</p>
+			<p>“<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Hastings⁠—you are always so kind, and you know such a lot.”</p>
 			<p>It struck me at this moment that Cynthia was really a very charming girl! Much more charming than Mary, who never said things of that kind.</p>
 			<p>“Well?” I asked benignantly, as she hesitated.</p>
 			<p>“I want to ask your advice. What shall I do?”</p>
 			<p>“Do?”</p>
 			<p>“Yes. You see, Aunt Emily always told me I should be provided for. I suppose she forgot, or didn’t think she was likely to die⁠—anyway, I am <em>not</em> provided for! And I don’t know what to do. Do you think I ought to go away from here at once?”</p>
 			<p>“Good heavens, no! They don’t want to part with you, I’m sure.”</p>
-			<p>Cynthia hesitated a moment, plucking up the grass with her tiny hands. Then she said: “<abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Cavendish does. She hates me.”</p>
+			<p>Cynthia hesitated a moment, plucking up the grass with her tiny hands. Then she said: “<abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Cavendish does. She hates me.”</p>
 			<p>“Hates you?” I cried, astonished.</p>
 			<p>Cynthia nodded.</p>
 			<p>“Yes. I don’t know why, but she can’t bear me; and <em>he</em> can’t, either.”</p>
@@ -222,7 +222,7 @@
 			<p>Thinking over the interview, it struck me as being profoundly unsatisfactory.</p>
 			<p>It occurred to me suddenly that I would go down to the village, and look up Bauerstein. Somebody ought to be keeping an eye on the fellow. At the same time, it would be wise to allay any suspicions he might have as to his being suspected. I remembered how Poirot had relied on my diplomacy. Accordingly, I went to the little house with the “Apartments” card inserted in the window, where I knew he lodged, and tapped on the door.</p>
 			<p>An old woman came and opened it.</p>
-			<p>“Good afternoon,” I said pleasantly. “Is <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Bauerstein in?”</p>
+			<p>“Good afternoon,” I said pleasantly. “Is <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Bauerstein in?”</p>
 			<p>She stared at me.</p>
 			<p>“Haven’t you heard?”</p>
 			<p>“Heard what?”</p>

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@@ -16,7 +16,7 @@
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 					<p>
-						<a href="chapter-4.xhtml#mrs-inglethorps-bedroom">A plan of <abbr>Mrs.</abbr> Inglethorp’s bedroom.</a>
+						<a href="chapter-4.xhtml#mrs-inglethorps-bedroom">A plan of <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Inglethorp’s bedroom.</a>
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@@ -44,7 +44,7 @@
 							<a href="text/chapter-8.xhtml"><span epub:type="z3998:roman">VIII</span>: Fresh Suspicions</a>
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 						<li>
-							<a href="text/chapter-9.xhtml"><span epub:type="z3998:roman">IX</span>: <abbr>Dr.</abbr> Bauerstein</a>
+							<a href="text/chapter-9.xhtml"><span epub:type="z3998:roman">IX</span>: <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Dr.</abbr> Bauerstein</a>
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 						<li>
 							<a href="text/chapter-10.xhtml"><span epub:type="z3998:roman">X</span>: The Arrest</a>