Chapter

1   VII|     So we galloped thither in hot haste, and when we got there
2    IX|    for joy.~ ~Now the iron is hot, now is the time to strike!~ ~"
3    IX|   coach! Back to Pressburg in hot haste, if the horses died
4     X|    felt her eyes grow burning hot, and her face flushed purple;
5  XIII| cooling, perhaps, to the poor hot forehead, so he pressed
6   XIX|     were no longer so burning hot, her breathing grew easier.~ ~
7   XXI|      such an hour and in such hot haste. God has brought you.