Words mixing problem without space

What is it that you are copying? It sounds as if the problem is with the original text. Can you post a non-confidential sample or some other way that is can be tested, please?

I am unable to arrange the sample for you. but i would like to inform you that
1. I copied it from pdf and paste it in word file.
2. i got the issue in margins (whole space was empty on paper) and i wanted to use full space so that less number of pages i can used at the time of printing.
3. there is a option in replace in word (i click on replace option then typed  ^P then replace all) my problem solved.
4. But i got the new problem

Copied here

shaking ceased. In the silence, theTaoist priest consulted his chart and turned to his visitor.He spoke inhalting English. 'The gods say you will soon be rid ofdangerousenemy.'The man felt a pleasant jolt of surprise. He was toointelligentnot to realize that the ancient art of chim was merely asuperstition.And he was too intelligent to ignore it. Besides, therewas another good luck omen. Today was Agios ConstantinousDay, his birthday.'The gods have blessed you with good/ung shui.''Do jeh:'Hou wah.'Five minutes later, he was in the limousine, on his way toKaiTak, the Hong Kong airport, where his private plane waswaitingto take him back to Athens.Chapter 1»loannina, Greece July1948She woke up screaming every night and it was always thesamedream. She was in the middle of a lake in a fierce stormand aman and a woman were forcing her head under the icywaters,drowning her. She awakened each time, panicky, gasping forbreath, soaked with perspiration.She had no idea who she was and she had no memory of thepast. She spoke English butshe did not know what countryshe was from or how she had come to be in Greece, in thesmallCarmelite convent that sheltered her.As time went by, there were tantalizing flashes of memory,glimpses of vague, ephemeral images that came and went tooquickly for her to grasp them, to hold them and examinethem.They came at unexpected moments, catching her off-guard,andfilling her with confusion.In the beginning, she had asked questions. The Carmelitenunswere kind and understanding, but theirs was an order ofsilence,and the only one permitted to speak was Sister Theresa,theelderly and frail Mother Superior.'Do you know who I am?''No, my child,' Sister Theresa said.'How did I get to this place?''At the foot of these mountains is a village calledloannina.You were in a small boat in the lake during a storm lastyear.The boat sank, but by the grace of God, two of our sisterssawyou and rescued you. They brought you here.''But. . . where did I come from before that?''I'm sorry, child. I do not know.'She could not be satisfied with that. 'Hasn't anyoneinquiredabout me? Hasn't anyone tried to find me?'Sister Theresa shook her head. 'No one.'She wanted to scream with frustration. She tried again.Thenewspapers . . . they must have had a story about my beingmissing.''As you know, we are permitted no communication with theoutside world. We must accept God's will, child. We mustthankHim for all His mercies. You are alive.'And that was as far as she was able to get. In thebeginning,she had been too ill to be concerned about herself, butslowly,as the months went by, she had regained her strength andherhealth.When she was strong enough to move about, she spent herdays tending the colorful gardens in the grounds of theconvent,in the incandescent light that bathed Greece in acelestial glow,with the soft winds carrying the pungent aroma of lemonsandvines.The atmosphere was serene and calm and yet she could findno peace. I'm lost, she thought, and no one cares. Why?Have Idone something evil? Who am I? Who am I? Who am /?The images continued to come, unbidden. One morning sheawakened suddenly with a vision of herself in a room withanaked man undressing her. Was it a dream? Or was itsomethingthat had happened in her past? Who was the man? Was itsomeone she had married? Did she have a husband? She woreno wedding ring. In fact she had no possessions other thantheblack Order of the Carmelite habit that Sister Theresa hadgiven her, and a pin, a small golden bird with ruby eyesandoutstretched wings.She was anonymous, a stranger living among strangers.Therewas no one to help her, no psychiatrist to tell her thather mindhad been so traumatized it could stay sane only byshutting outthe terrible past.And the images kept coming, faster and faster. It was asthough her mind had suddenly turned into a giant jigsawpuzzle,with odd pieces tumbling into place. But the pieces madenosense. She had a vision of a huge studio filled with menin armyuniform. They seemed to be making a motion picture. Was Ian. actress? No, she seemed to be in charge. But in chargeof what?A soldier handed her a bouquet of flowers. You'll have topayfor these yourself',vhe laughed.Two nights later, she had a dream about the same man. Shewas saying goodbye to him at the airport, and she woke upsobbing because she was losing him.There was no more peace for her after that. These were notmere dreams. They were pieces of her life, her past. /must findout who I was. Who I am.And unexpectedly, in the middle of the night, withoutwarning,a name was dredged up out of her subconscious. Catherine.Myname is Catherine Alexander.Chapter 2m » »Athens, GreeceThe empire of Constantin Demiris could not be located onanymap, yet he was the ruler of a fiefdom larger and morepowerfulthan many countries. He was one of the two or threewealthiestmen in the world and his influence was incalculable. Hehad notitle or official position but he regularly bought andsold primeministers, cardinals, ambassadors and kings. Demiris'tentacleswere everywhere, woven through the woof and warp of dozensof countries. He was a charismatic man, with a brilliantlyincisivemind, physically striking, well above medium height, withabarrel chest and broad shoulders. His complexion wasswarthyand he had a strong Greek nose and olive-black eyes. Hehadthe face of a hawk, a predator. When he chose to take thetrouble, Demiris could be extremely charming. He spokeeightlanguages and was a noted raconteur. He had one of themostimportant art collections in the world, a fleet of privateplanesand a dozen apartments, chateaus and villas scatteredaround theglobe. He was a connoisseur of beauty, and he foundbeautifulwomen irresistible. He had the reputation of being apowerfullover, and his romantic escapades were as colorful as hisfinancialadventures.Constantin Demiris prided himself on being a patriot theblue and white Greek flag was always on display at his villainKolonaki and on Psara, his private island buthe paid no taxes.He did not feel obliged to conform to the rules thatapplied toordinary men. In his veins

+1 Mr Skan