Fix typo

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 			<p>“I hope and pray he won’t go to law,” said <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Moss, “for there’s never any knowing where that’ll end. And the right doesn’t allays win. This <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Pivart’s a rich man, by what I can make out, and the rich mostly get things their own way.”</p>
 			<p>“As to that,” said <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Tulliver, stroking her dress down, “I’ve seen what riches are in my own family; for my sisters have got husbands as can afford to do pretty much what they like. But I think sometimes I shall be drove off my head with the talk about this law and erigation; and my sisters lay all the fault to me, for they don’t know what it is to marry a man like your brother; how should they? Sister Pullet has her own way from morning till night.”</p>
 			<p>“Well,” said <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Moss, “I don’t think I should like my husband if he hadn’t got any wits of his own, and I had to find headpiece for him. It’s a deal easier to do what pleases one’s husband, than to be puzzling what else one should do.”</p>
-			<p>“If people come to talk o’ doing what pleases their husbands,” said <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Tulliver, with a faint imitation of her sister Glegg, “I’m sure your brother might have waited a long while before he’d have found a wife that ’ud have let him have his say in everything, as I do. It’s nothing but law and erigation now, from when we first get up in the morning till we go to bed at night; and I never contradict him; I only say, ‘Well, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Tulliver, do as you like; but whativer you do, don’t go to law.”</p>
+			<p>“If people come to talk o’ doing what pleases their husbands,” said <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Tulliver, with a faint imitation of her sister Glegg, “I’m sure your brother might have waited a long while before he’d have found a wife that ’ud have let him have his say in everything, as I do. It’s nothing but law and erigation now, from when we first get up in the morning till we go to bed at night; and I never contradict him; I only say, ‘Well, <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Tulliver, do as you like; but whativer you do, don’t go to law.’ ”</p>
 			<p><abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Tulliver, as we have seen, was not without influence over her husband. No woman is; she can always incline him to do either what she wishes, or the reverse; and on the composite impulses that were threatening to hurry <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Tulliver into “law,” <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Tulliver’s monotonous pleading had doubtless its share of force; it might even be comparable to that proverbial feather which has the credit or discredit of breaking the camel’s back; though, on a strictly impartial view, the blame ought rather to lie with the previous weight of feathers which had already placed the back in such imminent peril that an otherwise innocent feather could not settle on it without mischief. Not that <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Tulliver’s feeble beseeching could have had this feather’s weight in virtue of her single personality; but whenever she departed from entire assent to her husband, he saw in her the representative of the Dodson family; and it was a guiding principle with <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Tulliver to let the Dodsons know that they were not to domineer over <em>him</em>, or⁠—more specifically⁠—that a male Tulliver was far more than equal to four female Dodsons, even though one of them was <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mrs.</abbr> Glegg.</p>
 			<p>But not even a direct argument from that typical Dodson female herself against his going to law could have heightened his disposition toward it so much as the mere thought of Wakem, continually freshened by the sight of the too able attorney on market-days. Wakem, to his certain knowledge, was (metaphorically speaking) at the bottom of Pivart’s irrigation; Wakem had tried to make Dix stand out, and go to law about the dam; it was unquestionably Wakem who had caused <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Tulliver to lose the suit about the right of road and the bridge that made a thoroughfare of his land for every vagabond who preferred an opportunity of damaging private property to walking like an honest man along the high road; all lawyers were more or less rascals, but Wakem’s rascality was of that peculiarly aggravated kind which placed itself in opposition to that form of right embodied in <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Tulliver’s interests and opinions. And as an extra touch of bitterness, the injured miller had recently, in borrowing the five hundred pounds, been obliged to carry a little business to Wakem’s office on his own account. A hook-nosed glib fellow! as cool as a cucumber⁠—always looking so sure of his game! And it was vexatious that Lawyer Gore was not more like him, but was a bald, round-featured man, with bland manners and fat hands; a gamecock that you would be rash to bet upon against Wakem. Gore was a sly fellow. His weakness did not lie on the side of scrupulosity; but the largest amount of winking, however significant, is not equivalent to seeing through a stone wall; and confident as <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Tulliver was in his principle that water was water, and in the direct inference that Pivart had not a leg to stand on in this affair of irrigation, he had an uncomfortable suspicion that Wakem had more law to show against this (rationally) irrefragable inference than Gore could show for it. But then, if they went to law, there was a chance for <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Tulliver to employ Counsellor Wylde on his side, instead of having that admirable bully against him; and the prospect of seeing a witness of Wakem’s made to perspire and become confounded, as <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Tulliver’s witness had once been, was alluring to the love of retributive justice.</p>
 			<p>Much rumination had <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Tulliver on these puzzling subjects during his rides on the gray horse; much turning of the head from side to side, as the scales dipped alternately; but the probable result was still out of sight, only to be reached through much hot argument and iteration in domestic and social life. That initial stage of the dispute which consisted in the narration of the case and the enforcement of <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Tulliver’s views concerning it throughout the entire circle of his connections would necessarily take time; and at the beginning of February, when Tom was going to school again, there were scarcely any new items to be detected in his father’s statement of the case against Pivart, or any more specific indication of the measures he was bent on taking against that rash contravener of the principle that water was water. Iteration, like friction, is likely to generate heat instead of progress, and <abbr epub:type="z3998:name-title">Mr.</abbr> Tulliver’s heat was certainly more and more palpable. If there had been no new evidence on any other point, there had been new evidence that Pivart was as “thick as mud” with Wakem.</p>