Chapter

 1 I   |        against women—all women, poor weak things.~Never till
 2 I   |     line of poetry, often but a poor one, often a bad one, would
 3 I   |   stammered out:~“Good heavens! Poor Leon—our poor friend! Dear
 4 I   |     Good heavens! Poor Leon—our poor friend! Dear me! Dear me!
 5 I   |         And what did he die of, poor Marechal?”~Maitre Lecanu
 6 I   |         you not saying that our poor friend Marechal had left
 7 III |        but men. If you are born poor you must work; well, so
 8 III |      which would then go to the poor, and to tell all friends
 9 IV  |         insinuation against his poor mother, who was so kind,
10 V   |   murmured in a pathetic tone:~“Poor fellow! To think that he
11 VII |       venomous, you torture our poor mother as if she were to
12 VII |      dress:~“Mother, mother, my poor mother, look at me!”~She
13 VII |         am not your mother now, poor boy—good-bye.”~It struck
14 VII |        a dejected tone:~“No, my poor boy, it is impossible. You
15 VII |        have understood all your poor brother’s struggles, believe
16 VIII|     mind that it must go to the poor. It was hard, but it could
17 VIII|   against the pane. He had been poor; he could become poor again.
18 VIII|      been poor; he could become poor again. After all he should
19 VIII|       take him still if he were poor; but had he any right to
20 VIII|    trust, to be restored to the poor at some future date.~And
21 VIII|        go away.”~She murmured:~“Poor boy!”~“But why ‘poor boy’?
22 VIII| murmured:~“Poor boy!”~“But why ‘poor boy’? He will not be in
23 VIII|         or explanation, and the poor women were to be pitied,
24 VIII|      under this new embrace the poor woman’s sick heart swelled
25 IX  |        that I am going away, my poor friend.”~The old man was
26 IX  |      wrong. You are forsaking a poor old man who came here to
27 IX  |       no more, was her son, her poor son. And she felt as though