Chapter

1     VIII|     itself, dusty as the public highway in summer, frozen or muddy
2     XIII|   father turned from the public highway into this rough road, the
3    XXIII| gratitude. It happened upon the highway; he might have assassinated
4     XXIV|         wounded upon the public highway—they were lying with their
5    XXVII|         quietly upon the public highway. They begged to be allowed
6   XXVIII|     places in the middle of the highway.”~ ~The young farmer paused