Fix typos

src/epub/text/chapter-2-8-6.xhtml

@@ -34,7 +34,7 @@
 					<p>“<i xml:lang="la">Et lux perpetua luceat ei.</i>”</p>
 					<p>He heard something like the gentle patter of several drops of rain on the plank which covered him. It was probably the holy water.</p>
 					<p>He thought: “This will be over soon now. Patience for a little while longer. The priest will take his departure. Fauchelevent will take Mestienne off to drink. I shall be left. Then Fauchelevent will return alone, and I shall get out. That will be the work of a good hour.”</p>
-					<p>The grave voice resumed</p>
+					<p>The grave voice resumed:⁠—</p>
 					<p>“<i xml:lang="la">Requiescat in pace.</i>”</p>
 					<p>And the child’s voice said:⁠—</p>
 					<p>“Amen.”</p>

src/epub/text/chapter-4-14-7.xhtml

@@ -53,7 +53,7 @@
 					<p>“Do you see this letter?”</p>
 					<p>“Yes.”</p>
 					<p>“Take it. Leave the barricade instantly” (Gavroche began to scratch his ear uneasily) “and tomorrow morning, you will deliver it at its address to Mademoiselle Cosette, at <abbr>M.</abbr> Fauchelevent’s, Rue de l’Homme Armé, <abbr>No.</abbr> 7.”</p>
-					<p>The heroic child replied</p>
+					<p>The heroic child replied:⁠—</p>
 					<p>“Well, but! in the meanwhile the barricade will be taken, and I shall not be there.”</p>
 					<p>“The barricade will not be attacked until daybreak, according to all appearances, and will not be taken before tomorrow noon.”</p>
 					<p>The fresh respite which the assailants were granting to the barricade had, in fact, been prolonged. It was one of those intermissions which frequently occur in nocturnal combats, which are always followed by an increase of rage.</p>

src/epub/text/chapter-4-8-4.xhtml

@@ -148,7 +148,7 @@
 					<p>They went away.</p>
 					<p>As they went, Montparnasse muttered:⁠—</p>
 					<p>“Never mind! if they had wanted, I’d have cut her throat.”</p>
-					<p>Babet responded</p>
+					<p>Babet responded:⁠—</p>
 					<p>“I wouldn’t. I don’t hit a lady.”</p>
 					<p>At the corner of the street they halted and exchanged the following enigmatical dialogue in a low tone:⁠—</p>
 					<p>“Where shall we go to sleep tonight?”</p>

src/epub/text/chapter-5-7-1.xhtml

@@ -39,7 +39,7 @@
 					<p>He continued: his words poured forth, as is the peculiarity of divine paroxysms of joy.</p>
 					<p>“How glad I am to see you! If you only knew how we missed you yesterday! Good morning, father. How is your hand? Better, is it not?”</p>
 					<p>And, satisfied with the favorable reply which he had made to himself, he pursued:</p>
-					<p>“We have both been talking about you. Cosette loves you so dearly! You must not forget that you have a chamber here, We want nothing more to do with the Rue de l’Homme Armé. We will have no more of it at all. How could you go to live in a street like that, which is sickly, which is disagreeable, which is ugly, which has a barrier at one end, where one is cold, and into which one cannot enter? You are to come and install yourself here. And this very day. Or you will have to deal with Cosette. She means to lead us all by the nose, I warn you. You have your own chamber here, it is close to ours, it opens on the garden; the trouble with the clock has been attended to, the bed is made, it is all ready, you have only to take possession of it. Near your bed Cosette has placed a huge, old, easy-chair covered with Utrecht velvet and she has said to it: ‘Stretch out your arms to him.’ A nightingale comes to the clump of acacias opposite your windows, every spring. In two months more you will have it. You will have its nest on your left and ours on your right. By night it will sing, and by day Cosette will prattle. Your chamber faces due South. Cosette will arrange your books for you, your Voyages of Captain Cook and the other⁠—Vancouver’s and all your affairs. I believe that there is a little valise to which you are attached, I have fixed upon a corner of honor for that. You have conquered my grandfather, you suit him. We will live together. Do you play whist? you will overwhelm my grandfather with delight if you play whist. It is you who shall take Cosette to walk on the days when I am at the courts, you shall give her your arm, you know, as you used to, in the Luxembourg. We are absolutely resolved to be happy. And you shall be included in it, in our happiness, do you hear, father? Come, will you breakfast with us today?”</p>
+					<p>“We have both been talking about you. Cosette loves you so dearly! You must not forget that you have a chamber here. We want nothing more to do with the Rue de l’Homme Armé. We will have no more of it at all. How could you go to live in a street like that, which is sickly, which is disagreeable, which is ugly, which has a barrier at one end, where one is cold, and into which one cannot enter? You are to come and install yourself here. And this very day. Or you will have to deal with Cosette. She means to lead us all by the nose, I warn you. You have your own chamber here, it is close to ours, it opens on the garden; the trouble with the clock has been attended to, the bed is made, it is all ready, you have only to take possession of it. Near your bed Cosette has placed a huge, old, easy-chair covered with Utrecht velvet and she has said to it: ‘Stretch out your arms to him.’ A nightingale comes to the clump of acacias opposite your windows, every spring. In two months more you will have it. You will have its nest on your left and ours on your right. By night it will sing, and by day Cosette will prattle. Your chamber faces due South. Cosette will arrange your books for you, your Voyages of Captain Cook and the other⁠—Vancouver’s and all your affairs. I believe that there is a little valise to which you are attached, I have fixed upon a corner of honor for that. You have conquered my grandfather, you suit him. We will live together. Do you play whist? you will overwhelm my grandfather with delight if you play whist. It is you who shall take Cosette to walk on the days when I am at the courts, you shall give her your arm, you know, as you used to, in the Luxembourg. We are absolutely resolved to be happy. And you shall be included in it, in our happiness, do you hear, father? Come, will you breakfast with us today?”</p>
 					<p>“Sir,” said Jean Valjean, “I have something to say to you. I am an ex-convict.”</p>
 					<p>The limit of shrill sounds perceptible can be overleaped, as well in the case of the mind as in that of the ear. These words: “I am an ex-convict,” proceeding from the mouth of <abbr>M.</abbr> Fauchelevent and entering the ear of Marius overshot the possible. It seemed to him that something had just been said to him; but he did not know what. He stood with his mouth wide open.</p>
 					<p>Then he perceived that the man who was addressing him was frightful. Wholly absorbed in his own dazzled state, he had not, up to that moment, observed the other man’s terrible pallor.</p>