Part, Chapter

 1  I, 2 |     face. She smiled under the tender warmth, and drops of water
 2  I, 4 |  dreary as an empty house; and tender memories mingling with the
 3 II, 2 |      poets. I think verse more tender than prose, and that it
 4 II, 3 |       feet with it; they’re as tender as one’s tongue.”~Once rid
 5 II, 7 |       I’m sure of it. She’d be tender, charming. Yes; but how
 6 II, 8 |        a low voice, and with a tender look, “Oh, yes! very beautiful!”~
 7 II, 10|      seems to me a little more tender, if I may venture to say
 8 II, 12|   looked at her strangely in a tender fashion.~“It is because
 9 II, 13|   their orthography. They were tender or jovial, facetious, melancholy;
10 II, 15|    protracted, so discreet, so tender, and that she had nevertheless
11 III, 5|      or the hut of a lime-kiln tender. Sometimes even, in the
12 III, 5|    with voluptuous laughs, and tender names.~The bed was large,
13 III, 5|       called on Leon, sent him tender words and kisses lost in
14 III, 5| mistress than she his. She had tender words and kisses that thrilled
15 III, 7|   understand. She went on in a tender, suppliant manner. She came