had no object in going out, he stayed in his room
and arranged his business matters. Passe-partout was continually
running up and down stairs, and thought the day passed very slowly. He
listened at his master's door, and did not think it wrong; he looked
through the keyhole, for every instant he feared some catastrophe.
Sometimes he thought of Fix, but without any animosity. Fix, like
everyone else, had been mistaken, and had only done his duty in
following Mr. Fogg, while he (Passe-partout)-- The thought haunted
him, and he thought himself the most wretched of men.

He was so unhappy that he could not bear to remain alone, so he
knocked at Mrs. Aouda's sitting-room, and, permitted to enter, sat
down in a corner, without speaking. She, too, was very pensive.

About half-past seven Mr. Fogg asked permission to go in; he took a
chair and sat close by the fireplace, opposite to the young lady; he
betrayed no emotion--the Fogg who had come back was the same as the
Fogg who had gone away. There was the same calmness, the same
impassibility.

For five minutes he did not speak, then he said: "Madam, can you
forgive me for having brought you to England?"

"I, Mr. Fogg!" exclaimed Mrs. Aouda, trying to check the beating of
her heart.

"Pray allow me to finish," continued Mr. Fogg. "When I asked you to
come to this country I was rich, and had determined to place a portion
of my fortune at your disposal. You would have been free and happy.
Now I am ruined."

"I know it, Mr. Fogg," she replied; "and I, in my turn, have to ask
your pardon for having followed you, and, who knows, retarded you, and
thus contributed to your ruin."

"You could not have remained in India," replied Mr. Fogg, "and your
safety was only assured by taking you quite away from those fanatics
who wished to arrest you."

"So, Mr. Fogg," she replied, "not satisfied with having saved me from
death, you wished to insure my comfort in a foreign country."

"I did," replied Fogg; "but fate was unpropitious. However, I wish to
place at your disposal the little I have left."

"But," she exclaimed, "what will become of you, Mr. Fogg?"

"Of me, madam? I am in want of nothing."

"But," she continued, "how can you bear to look upon the fate in store
for you?"

"As I always look at everything," replied Mr. Fogg; "in the best way I
can."

"At any rate," said Aouda, "your friends will not permit you to want
anything."

"I have no friends, madam."

"Your r