Chapter

 1 Int |         the Neapolitan cypresses dear to the friends of Boccaccio,
 2 Int |        sentences which I sell as dear as I can, regretting that
 3 Int |         owes to those sufferings dear to great souls of whom Daudet
 4 I   |          on her knees. “This, my dear,” he said, “is all that
 5 IV  |          tenderly:~“Are not your dear little feet cold?”~All at
 6 IV  |      asked you—are not your—your—dear little feet cold?—no one
 7 V   |     arrived she said to Julien: “Dear, will you give me that money
 8 VII |          pacing up and down. “My dear,” he said, “she will not
 9 VII |    warmer to-night, won’t it, my dear?” He laughed with his jolly
10 VII |       neck: “I do not feel well, dear; perhaps I shall be better
11 VII |     to-morrow.”~“As you wish, my dear. If you are ill you must
12 VII |       not give way like that, my dear young lady, be sensible.”
13 VIII|         take a ride on Thursday, dear vicomte?”~As he bowed and
14 VIII|       Your parents are crazy, my dear, crazy enough to be shut
15 IX  |    century. The first began, “My dear little granddaughter,” then
16 IX  |   granddaughter,” then again “My dear little girl,” “My darling,” “
17 IX  |      dearest daughter,” then “My dear child,” “My dear Adelaide,” “
18 IX  |        then “My dear child,” “My dear Adelaide,” “My dear daughter,”
19 IX  |           My dear Adelaide,” “My dear daughter,” according to
20 IX  | repeatedly, exclaiming: “My poor dear, my poor dear!”~When Comte
21 IX  |            My poor dear, my poor dear!”~When Comte de Fourville
22 XI  |        abbé. The letter ran:~“My Dear Mamma: Do not be uneasy.
23 XI  |       difficulties.~“Good-by, my dear mamma. I embrace you with
24 XI  |        The Poplars’ some day, my dear parents.”~He did not mention
25 XI  |       the bottom of my heart, my dear mamma—perhaps for the last
26 XI  |          home at once to see his dear parents.~But he did not
27 XI  |       out of my difficulties, my dear mamma, I shall go back to
28 XI  |        into those minute details dear to country people, describing
29 XII |    follows to the young man:~“My Dear Son: I can do nothing more
30 XIII|  rendered me a great service, my dear mother, for we were in the
31 XIII|         an imploring letter:~“My Dear Child: I am going to entreat
32 XIII|    replied a few days later:~“My Dear Mother: I would ask nothing
33 XIII|        reply with impatience, my dear mother, and we both embrace
34 XIV |        the thought of seeing her dear home once more.~The sky
35 XIV |      with anxiety. He wrote:~“My Dear Mother: I have not written