Use no-break hyphen for sounds

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@@ -143,7 +143,7 @@
 			<p>“Froissart!” said I, beginning to faint, “why, surely you don’t say Moissart, and Voissart, and Croissart, and Froissart?”</p>
 			<p>“Yes,” she replied, leaning fully back in her chair, and stretching out her lower limbs at great length; “yes, Moissart, and Voissart, and Croissart, and Froissart. But Monsieur Froissart, he vas von <em>ver</em> big vat you call fool⁠—he vas von ver great big donce like yourself⁠—for he lef <i xml:lang="fr">la belle France</i> for come to dis stupide Amérique⁠—and ven he get here he went and ave von <em>ver</em> stupide, von <em>ver</em>, <em>ver</em> stupide sonn, so I hear, dough I not yet av ad de plaisir to meet vid him⁠—neither me nor my companion, de Madame Stephanie Lalande. He is name de Napoleon Bonaparte Froissart, and I suppose you say dat <em>dat</em>, too, is not von <em>ver</em> respectable name.”</p>
 			<p>Either the length or the nature of this speech, had the effect of working up <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Simpson into a very extraordinary passion indeed; and as she made an end of it, with great labor, she jumped up from her chair like somebody bewitched, dropping upon the floor an entire universe of bustle as she jumped. Once upon her feet, she gnashed her gums, brandished her arms, rolled up her sleeves, shook her fist in my face, and concluded the performance by tearing the cap from her head, and with it an immense wig of the most valuable and beautiful black hair, the whole of which she dashed upon the ground with a yell, and there trammpled and danced a fandango upon it, in an absolute ecstasy and agony of rage.</p>
-			<p>Meantime I sank aghast into the chair which she had vacated. “Moissart and Voissart!” I repeated, thoughtfully, as she cut one of her pigeon-wings, and “Croissart and Froissart!” as she completed another⁠—“Moissart and Voissart and Croissart and Napoleon Bonaparte Froissart!⁠—why, you ineffable old serpent, that’s <em>me</em>⁠—that’s <em>me</em>⁠—d’ye hear? that’s <em>me</em>”⁠—here I screamed at the top of my voice⁠—“that’s <em>me-e-e</em>! <em>I</em> am Napoleon Bonaparte Froissart! and if I havn’t married my great, great, grandmother, I wish I may be everlastingly confounded!”</p>
+			<p>Meantime I sank aghast into the chair which she had vacated. “Moissart and Voissart!” I repeated, thoughtfully, as she cut one of her pigeon-wings, and “Croissart and Froissart!” as she completed another⁠—“Moissart and Voissart and Croissart and Napoleon Bonaparte Froissart!⁠—why, you ineffable old serpent, that’s <em>me</em>⁠—that’s <em>me</em>⁠—d’ye hear? that’s <em>me</em>”⁠—here I screamed at the top of my voice⁠—“that’s <em>me‑e‑e</em>! <em>I</em> am Napoleon Bonaparte Froissart! and if I havn’t married my great, great, grandmother, I wish I may be everlastingly confounded!”</p>
 			<p>Madame Eugénie Lalande, quasi Simpson⁠—formerly Moissart⁠—was, in sober fact, my great, great, grandmother. In her youth she had been beautiful, and even at eighty-two, retained the majestic height, the sculptural contour of head, the fine eyes and the Grecian nose of her girlhood. By the aid of these, of pearl-powder, of rouge, of false hair, false teeth, and false tournure, as well as of the most skilful modistes of Paris, she contrived to hold a respectable footing among the beauties <i xml:lang="fr">en peu passées</i> of the French metropolis. In this respect, indeed, she might have been regarded as little less than the equal of the celebrated Ninon De L’Enclos.</p>
 			<p>She was immensely wealthy, and being left, for the second time, a widow without children, she bethought herself of my existence in America, and for the purpose of making me her heir, paid a visit to the United States, in company with a distant and exceedingly lovely relative of her second husband’s⁠—a Madame Stephanie Lalande.</p>
 			<p>At the opera, my great, great, grandmother’s attention was arrested by my notice; and, upon surveying me through her eyeglass, she was struck with a certain family resemblance to herself. Thus interested, and knowing that the heir she sought was actually in the city, she made inquiries of her party respecting me. The gentleman who attended her knew my person, and told her who I was. The information thus obtained induced her to renew her scrutiny; and this scrutiny it was which so emboldened me that I behaved in the absurd manner already detailed. She returned my bow, however, under the impression that, by some odd accident, I had discovered her identity. When, deceived by my weakness of vision, and the arts of the toilet, in respect to the age and charms of the strange lady, I demanded so enthusiastically of Talbot who she was, he concluded that I meant the younger beauty, as a matter of course, and so informed me, with perfect truth, that she was “the celebrated widow, Madame Lalande.”</p>