Chapter

1     III|    a stretch of monotonous, waste territory, Blanka yielded
2       V|     Hungarian, 'Haste makes waste!' I wheeled about, and there
3      XX|    Ciprianu whose sons laid waste Sasd and Felvincz and killed
4     XXI| human industry, a boundless waste of rugged, forest-clad mountain
5    XXVI|      but it would only be a waste of ammunition: they would
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