Chapter

1     VII|      tears, and she sank on her knees. The Pope bent and graciously
2     XII| thinking that I must fall on my knees and repeat a dozen paternosters
3    XVII|         by name. He rose to his knees and looked toward the opening
4    XVII|         s feet and embraced his knees. "Torda Gap is, indeed,
5      XX| dagger-thrust in his heart. His knees trembled under him. But
6     XXI|        extended half-way to his knees, and laced shoes. He carried
7     XXI|    smitten him in the face, his knees trembled, and an inarticulate
8   XXIII|         stake out from under my knees," directed the fiddler,
9   XXIII|        and passed over his bent knees, where they were held fast