Chapter

 1  2,2|        mattress. ~"Cornelius, my poor brother, you are suffering
 2  2,2|       you, my brother." ~"Oh, my poor dear Cornelius! I feel most
 3  2,2| complaint, except once, to say, 'Poor brother!' But now that you
 4  2,2|        and who lives at Dort." ~"Poor honest Van Baerle! who knows
 5  2,2|     secret; it will be his ruin, poor soul!" ~ ~
 6  2,3|       will you be able to write, poor old fellow?" John asked,
 7  4,1|         see, Van Deken, that the poor fellow will find the gate
 8  4,2|            may not one save this poor man, who has been your Highness'
 9  7,2|        distribute them among the poor of Dort; and thus the hatred
10  7,2|         the Haarlem prize to-the poor. And yet ---- " ~Here Cornelius
11  7,2|     Holland, I shall give to the poor only fifty thousand guilders,
12  8,1|       happen in the house of the poor doctor to feel any desire
13  9,1|          was about midnight when poor Van Baerle was locked up
14 11,2|       declaration of love, alas! poor dear, it would be of no
15 11,3|                            3~The poor girl was nearly choking
16 11,3|          it is the Bible of your poor godfather, Cornelius de
17 11,3|          made. ~The agony of the poor girl almost overpowered
18 12,1|       than one martyrdom, on the poor tulip-fancier. ~Yet, notwithstanding
19 14,2|      nurse's: in which event the poor prisoner, like the raven
20 15,2|    people, and which was dumb to poor stupid me." ~"So you have
21 16,2|           will you still look at poor Rosa, the daughter of a
22 17,1|         and who knows you. Alas, poor Sue! she would come herself,
23 17,1|         with the exception of my poor old Sue, I have no friends
24 17,1|      upon it. But good night, my poor captive gentleman." ~"How?
25 17,2|         cry of agony, uttered by poor Rosa, who, trembling and
26 17,2|         spiteful fellow to rob a poor prisoner of his only consolation,
27 18,1|        directly, friend Jacob." ~Poor Cornelius, thus left alone
28 18,1|        asking 'And what did that poor young man say?' ~"I did
29 18,1|        pastime is of value. This poor Mynheer van Baerle amused
30 19,1|                            1~But poor Rosa, in her secluded chamber,
31 19,1|        flowers, rather than upon poor Rosa, the jailer's lowly
32 19,1|          this terrible night the poor girl did not close an eye,
33 19,1|       most diligently to reading poor Cornelius de Witt's Bible,
34 19,1|        one moment he loved me." ~Poor Rosa! she was mistaken.
35 19,2|       grated window, the cell of poor Cornelius, and which, in
36 19,2|       with it the thought of his poor tulip. It was now just that
37 20,1|        to me?" ~Saying this, the poor prisoner looked at Rosa,
38 20,1|      indifference with which the poor girl affected to speak of
39 20,1|    defending yourself; but to my poor tulip, when it is in danger,
40 20,2|         sigh; and now you expect poor me to sacrifice to you all
41 20,2|       sigh at the thought, that, poor captive as he was, to him
42 21,1|       beautiful golden tresses. ~Poor girl! she had no idea that
43 22,1|      will, for if I did, being a poor prisoner, people might,
44 22,2|           He was well again, the poor invalid; the wretched captive
45 23,1|                1~And in fact the poor young people were in great
46 23,2|        chapter, we said that the poor young people were in great
47 24,1|       not my fault, my friend." ~Poor Rosa! she no longer dared
48 24,1|      each other? How should I, a poor girl, with so little knowledge
49 24,2|   followed her, growling. ~As to poor Cornelius, he gradually
50 26,2| experienced florist; I am only a poor girl, one of the people,
51 26,2|        But by whom else?" ~"By a poor prisoner of Loewestein." ~"
52 27,1|           I recognise it. Oh, my poor Cornelius!" ~And saying
53 29,2|          grant such an honour to poor Mathias." ~"Come, come!"
54 29,2|         It was written," thought poor Cornelius, "that I should
55 29,2|    failed to tell him. ~What the poor prisoner was most afraid
56 29,2|         bounden duty. ~But Rosa, poor girl! must he die without
57 29,2|       tears at such a crisis the poor wretch's heart must have
58 29,2|     passing my house, whether my poor borders have been much spoiled." ~ ~
59 31,2|          heavy cakes; nor in the poor young peasants, gnawing
60 32,1|       which we have tried - with poor success, no doubt - to present
61 32,2|       officer supported him, our poor friend would have made his