Chapter

 1 1 |    without windgalls on his legs, which, though going with
 2 2 |  their jokes upon his bandy legs and his crooked back. Some
 3 11|    all the swiftness of his legs, already a little fatigued
 4 17|  they stick in between your legs till your bones stick out!
 5 20|      If Porthos were on his legs, he would have rejoined
 6 26| became very pale; I felt my legs fail me; I sought for a
 7 32| survived. Unfortunately the legs began to refuse their service
 8 32|    Coquenard, firm upon his legs, would have declined all
 9 32|    his departure." ~"Oh, my legs, my poor legs! where are
10 32|        Oh, my legs, my poor legs! where are you?" murmured
11 35| Place Royale as fast as her legs could carry her. ~The heart
12 35| stretch forth her arms; her legs failed her, and she sank
13 38|   as jet, nostrils of fire, legs clean and elegant, rising
14 46|    ear. ~Grimaud was on his legs again as if by a spring.
15 47|    on the ground with their legs crossed like Turks, or even
16 53|      and stretching out his legs carelessly upon the hearth, "
17 56|   and call for help, but my legs refused their office. It
18 64| reward, left as fast as his legs could carry him. ~Athos