Add double quotes to extended dialog

src/epub/text/chapter-20.xhtml

@@ -55,30 +55,30 @@
 			<p>“I was putting forward the notion,” Denis went on, “that the effects of love were often similar to the effects of wine, that Eros could intoxicate as well as Bacchus. Love, for example, is essentially carminative. It gives one the sense of warmth, the glow.</p>
 			<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
 				<p>
-					<span>‘<i>And passion carminative as wine</i>⁠ ⁠…’</span>
+					<span>“ ‘<i>And passion carminative as wine</i>⁠ ⁠…’</span>
 				</p>
 			</blockquote>
-			<p class="continued">was what I wrote. Not only was the line elegantly sonorous; it was also, I flattered myself, very aptly compendiously expressive. Everything was in the word carminative⁠—a detailed, exact foreground, an immense, indefinite hinterland of suggestion.</p>
+			<p class="continued">“was what I wrote. Not only was the line elegantly sonorous; it was also, I flattered myself, very aptly compendiously expressive. Everything was in the word carminative⁠—a detailed, exact foreground, an immense, indefinite hinterland of suggestion.</p>
 			<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
 				<p>
-					<span>‘<i>And passion carminative as wine</i>⁠ ⁠…’</span>
+					<span>“ ‘<i>And passion carminative as wine</i>⁠ ⁠…’</span>
 				</p>
 			</blockquote>
-			<p>I was not ill-pleased. And then suddenly it occurred to me that I had never actually looked up the word in a dictionary. Carminative had grown up with me from the days of the cinnamon bottle. It had always been taken for granted. Carminative: for me the word was as rich in content as some tremendous, elaborate work of art; it was a complete landscape with figures.</p>
+			<p>“I was not ill-pleased. And then suddenly it occurred to me that I had never actually looked up the word in a dictionary. Carminative had grown up with me from the days of the cinnamon bottle. It had always been taken for granted. Carminative: for me the word was as rich in content as some tremendous, elaborate work of art; it was a complete landscape with figures.</p>
 			<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse">
 				<p>
-					<span>‘<i>And passion carminative as wine</i>⁠ ⁠…’</span>
+					<span>“ ‘<i>And passion carminative as wine</i>⁠ ⁠…’</span>
 				</p>
 			</blockquote>
-			<p>It was the first time I had ever committed the word to writing, and all at once I felt I would like lexicographical authority for it. A small English-German dictionary was all I had at hand. I turned up <i epub:type="z3998:grapheme">C</i>, ca, car, carm. There it was: ‘Carminative: <i xml:lang="de">windtreibend</i>.’ <i xml:lang="de">Windtreibend!</i>” he repeated. <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Scogan laughed. Denis shook his head. “Ah,” he said, “for me it was no laughing matter. For me it marked the end of a chapter, the death of something young and precious. There were the years⁠—years of childhood and innocence⁠—when I had believed that carminative meant⁠—well, carminative. And now, before me lies the rest of my life⁠—a day, perhaps, ten years, half a century, when I shall know that carminative means <i xml:lang="de">windtreibend</i>.</p>
+			<p>“It was the first time I had ever committed the word to writing, and all at once I felt I would like lexicographical authority for it. A small English-German dictionary was all I had at hand. I turned up <i epub:type="z3998:grapheme">C</i>, ca, car, carm. There it was: ‘Carminative: <i xml:lang="de">windtreibend</i>.’ <i xml:lang="de">Windtreibend!</i>” he repeated. <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Scogan laughed. Denis shook his head. “Ah,” he said, “for me it was no laughing matter. For me it marked the end of a chapter, the death of something young and precious. There were the years⁠—years of childhood and innocence⁠—when I had believed that carminative meant⁠—well, carminative. And now, before me lies the rest of my life⁠—a day, perhaps, ten years, half a century, when I shall know that carminative means <i xml:lang="de">windtreibend</i>.</p>
 			<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse" xml:lang="fr">
 				<p>
-					<span>‘Plus ne suis ce que j’ai été</span>
+					<span>“ ‘Plus ne suis ce que j’ai été</span>
 					<br/>
 					<span>Et ne le saurai jamais être.’</span>
 				</p>
 			</blockquote>
-			<p>It is a realisation that makes one rather melancholy.”</p>
+			<p>“It is a realisation that makes one rather melancholy.”</p>
 			<p>“Carminative,” said <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Scogan thoughtfully.</p>
 			<p>“Carminative,” Denis repeated, and they were silent for a time. “Words,” said Denis at last, “words⁠—I wonder if you can realise how much I love them. You are too much preoccupied with mere things and ideas and people to understand the full beauty of words. Your mind is not a literary mind. The spectacle of <abbr>Mr.</abbr> Gladstone finding thirty-four rhymes to the name ‘Margot’ seems to you rather pathetic than anything else. Mallarmé’s envelopes with their versified addresses leave you cold, unless they leave you pitiful; you can’t see that</p>
 			<blockquote epub:type="z3998:verse" xml:lang="fr">