Chap.

 1        1|  big wench who slapped her thighs and clucked like a hen,
 2        3| But I think nothing of the thighs, you know. Will you bet
 3        3|    Will you bet she has no thighs?”~He stopped, for Fauchery
 4        5|   and amid the most famous thighs and bosoms in all Paris.
 5        7|  it between her snow–white thighs as milk is monthly churned
 6        7|   sweeping contours of her thighs. And she ended with a strange
 7       12|  breast, her waist and her thighs only doubled her terror,
 8       12|   once bet that she had no thighs.”~This affectation of cynicism
 9       12|    I bet ten louis she has thighs.”~Fauchery did indeed come
10       12| bet ten louis—now, has she thighs?”~And he fell a–laughing,
11       13|    down to the exaggerated thighs—which caused her to be recognizable