Use no-break hyphen for sounds

src/epub/content.opf

@@ -104,7 +104,7 @@
 		<dc:source>https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51018</dc:source>
 		<!--End Sources-->
 		<meta property="se:production-notes">Many stories in this collection were transcribed from the OCR due to the lack of pre-existing transcriptions. As the Tolstoy centenary edition (https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/001110412) translated by the Maudes is released into public domain, we should look into replacing other translators with the Maudes when possible.</meta>
-		<meta property="se:word-count">659590</meta>
+		<meta property="se:word-count">659592</meta>
 		<meta property="se:reading-ease.flesch">71.14</meta>
 		<meta property="se:url.encyclopedia.wikipedia">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leo_Tolstoy_bibliography</meta>
 		<meta property="se:url.vcs.github">https://github.com/standardebooks/leo-tolstoy_short-fiction_louise-maude_aylmer-maude_nathan-haskell-dole_constance-garnett_j-d-duff_l</meta>

src/epub/text/a-russian-proprietor.xhtml

@@ -355,7 +355,7 @@
 				<p>“Isn’t she willing?”</p>
 				<p>“No, benefactor, she isn’t.”</p>
 				<p>“Well, what’s to be done? I can’t compel her. Select someone else. If you can’t find one at home, go to another village. I will pay for her, only she must come of her own free will. It is impossible to marry her by force. There’s no law allows that; that would be a great sin.”</p>
-				<p>“<em>E-e-kh!</em> benefactor! Is it possible that anyone would come to us of her own accord, seeing our way of life, our wretchedness? Not even the wife of a soldier would like to undergo such want. What peasant would let us have his daughter?<a href="endnotes.xhtml#note-164" id="noteref-164" epub:type="noteref">164</a> It is not to be expected. You see we’re in the very depths of poverty. They will say, ‘Since you starved one to death, it will be the same with my daughter.’ Who is to give her?” she added, shaking her head dubiously. “Give us your advice, excellency.”</p>
+				<p>“<em>E‑e‑kh!</em> benefactor! Is it possible that anyone would come to us of her own accord, seeing our way of life, our wretchedness? Not even the wife of a soldier would like to undergo such want. What peasant would let us have his daughter?<a href="endnotes.xhtml#note-164" id="noteref-164" epub:type="noteref">164</a> It is not to be expected. You see we’re in the very depths of poverty. They will say, ‘Since you starved one to death, it will be the same with my daughter.’ Who is to give her?” she added, shaking her head dubiously. “Give us your advice, excellency.”</p>
 				<p>“Well, what can I do?”</p>
 				<p>“Think of someone for us, kind sir,” repeated Arína urgently. “What are we to do?”</p>
 				<p>“How can I think of anyone? I can’t do anything at all for you as things are.”</p>
@@ -574,7 +574,7 @@
 				<p>Here, suddenly, he seemed to see a troika of sleek horses, and Ilyushka’s handsome, robust form, with bright curls, gayly shining, narrow blue eyes, fresh complexion, and delicate down just beginning to appear on lip and chin.</p>
 				<p>He remembered how Ilyushka was afraid that he would not be permitted to go teaming, and how eagerly he argued in favor of the work that he liked so well. And he saw the gray early morning, that began with mist, and the smooth paved road, and the long lines of three-horse wagons, heavily laden and protected by mats, and marked with big black letters. The stout, contented, well-fed horses, thundering along with their bells, arching their backs, and tugging on the traces, pulled in unison up the hill, forcefully straining on their long-nailed shoes over the smooth road.</p>
 				<p>As the train of wagons reached the foot of the hill, the postman had quickly dashed by with jingling bells, which were echoed far and wide by the great forest extending along on both sides of the road.</p>
-				<p>“<em>A-a-aï!</em>” in a loud, boyish voice, shouts the head driver, who has a badge on his lambskin cap, and swings his whip around his head.</p>
+				<p>“<em>A‑a‑aï!</em>” in a loud, boyish voice, shouts the head driver, who has a badge on his lambskin cap, and swings his whip around his head.</p>
 				<p>Beside the front wheel of the front team, the redheaded, cross-looking Karp is walking heavily in huge boots. In the second team Ilyushka shows his handsome head, as he sits on the driver’s seat playing the bugle. Three troika-wagons loaded with boxes, with creaking wheels, with the sound of bells and shouts, file by. Ilyushka once more hides his handsome face under the matting, and falls off to sleep.</p>
 				<p>Now it is a fresh, clear evening. The deal gates open for the weary horses as they halt in front of the tavern yard; and one after the other, the high mat-covered teams roll in across the planks that lie at the gates, and come to rest under the wide sheds.</p>
 				<p>Ilyushka gayly exchanges greetings with the light-complexioned, wide-bosomed landlady, who asks, “Have you come far? and will there be many of you to supper?” and at the same time looks with pleasure on the handsome lad, with her bright, kindly eyes.</p>