prompt:
Chapter: IN WHICH IT IS SHOWN THAT PHILEAS FOGG GAINED NOTHING BY HIS TOUR
AROUND THE WORLD, UNLESS IT WERE HAPPINESS

Yes; Phileas Fogg in person.

The reader will remember that at five minutes past eight in the
evening--about five and twenty hours after the arrival of the
travellers in London--Passepartout had been sent by his master to
engage the services of the Reverend Samuel Wilson in a certain marriage
ceremony, which was to take place the next day.

Passepartout went on his errand enchanted.  He soon reached the
clergyman's house, but found him not at home.  Passepartout waited a
good twenty minutes, and when he left the reverend gentleman, it was
thirty-five minutes past eight.  But in what a state he was!  With his
hair in disorder, and without his hat, he ran along the street as never
man was seen to run before, overturning passers-by, rushing over the
sidewalk like a waterspout.

In three minutes he was in Saville Row again, and staggered back into
Mr. Fogg's room.

He could not speak.

"What is the matter?" asked Mr. Fogg.

"My master!" gasped Passepartout--"marriage--impossible--"

"Impossible?"

"Impossible--for to-morrow."

"Why so?"

"Because to-morrow--is Sunday!"

"Monday," replied Mr. Fogg.

"No--to-day is Saturday."

"Saturday?  Impossible!"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" cried Passepartout.  "You have made a mistake of
one day!  We arrived twenty-four hours ahead of time; but there are
only ten minutes left!"

Passepartout had seized his master by the collar, and was dragging him
along with irresistible force.

Phileas Fogg, thus kidnapped, without having time to think, left his
house, jumped into a cab, promised a hundred pounds to the cabman, and,
having run over two dogs and overturned five carriages, reached the
Reform Club.

The clock indicated a quarter before nine when he appeared in the great
saloon.

Phileas Fogg had accomplished the journey round the world in eighty
days!

Phileas Fogg had won his wager of twenty thousand pounds!

How was it that a man so exact and fastidious could have made this
error of a day?  How came he to think that he had arrived in London on
Saturday, the twenty-first day of December, when it was really Friday,
the twentieth, the seventy-ninth day only from his departure?

The cause of the error is very simple.

Phileas Fogg had, without suspecting it, gained one day on his journey,
and this merely because he had travelled constantly eastward; he would,
on the contrary, have lost a day had he gone in the opposite direction,
that is, westward.

In journeying eastward he had gone towards the sun, and the days
therefore diminished for him as many times four minutes as he crossed
degrees in this direction.  There are three hundred and sixty degrees
on the circumference of the earth; and these three hundred and sixty
degrees, multiplied by four minutes, gives precisely twenty-four
hours--that is, the day unconsciously gained.  In other words, while
Phileas Fogg, going eastward, saw the sun pass the meridian eighty
times, his friends in London only saw it pass the meridian seventy-nine
times.  This is why they awaited him at the Reform Club on Saturday,
and not Sunday, as Mr. Fogg thought.

And Passepartout's famous family watch, which had always kept London
time, would have betrayed this fact, if it had marked the days as well
as the hours and the minutes!

Phileas Fogg, then, had won the twenty thousand pounds; but, as he had
spent nearly nineteen thousand on the way, the pecuniary gain was
small.  His object was, however, to be victorious, and not to win
money.  He divided the one thousand pounds that remained between
Passepartout and the unfortunate Fix, against whom he cherished no
grudge.  He deducted, however, from Passepartout's share the cost of
the gas which had burned in his room for nineteen hundred and twenty
hours, for the sake of regularity.

That evening, Mr. Fogg, as tranquil and phlegmatic as ever, said to
Aouda: "Is our marriage still agreeable to you?"

"Mr. Fogg," replied she, "it is for me to ask that question.  You were
ruined, but now you are rich again."

"Pardon me, madam; my fortune belongs to you.  If you had not suggested
our marriage, my servant would not have gone to the Reverend Samuel
Wilson's, I should not have been apprised of my error, and--"

"Dear Mr. Fogg!" said the young woman.

"Dear Aouda!" replied Phileas Fogg.

It need not be said that the marriage took place forty-eight hours
after, and that Passepartout, glowing and dazzling, gave the bride
away.  Had he not saved her, and was he not entitled to this honour?

The next day, as soon as it was light, Passepartout rapped vigorously
at his master's door.  Mr. Fogg opened it, and asked, "What's the
matter, Passepartout?"

"What is it, sir?  Why, I've just this instant found out--"

"What?"

"That we might have made the tour of the world in only seventy-eight
days."

"No doubt," returned Mr. Fogg, "by not crossing India.  But if I had
not crossed India, I should not have saved Aouda; she would not have
been my wife, and--"

Mr. Fogg quietly shut the door.

Phileas Fogg had won his wager, and had made his journey around the
world in eighty days.  To do this he had employed every means of
conveyance--steamers, railways, carriages, yachts, trading-vessels,
sledges, elephants.  The eccentric gentleman had throughout displayed
all his marvellous qualities of coolness and exactitude.  But what
then?  What had he really gained by all this trouble?  What had he
brought back from this long and weary journey?

Nothing, say you?  Perhaps so; nothing but a charming woman, who,
strange as it may appear, made him the happiest of men!

Truly, would you not for less than that make the tour around the world?

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: While running to grab the nearest preacher , Passepartout finds out that it's actually Sunday, not Monday like the group's been thinking. By traveling eastward around the world, Phileas Fogg, master calculator and obsessive organizer, has forgotten the time he's gained by journeying through all those time zones. The group actually arrived two days early. Passepartout races home, grabs Phileas by the collar, shoves him into a cab, and deposits him at the club. Phileas presents himself with minutes to spare and effectively wins the bet. He's rich once more, but more important , he has won the heart of a "charming" woman.


prompt:
Chapter: Mr. Phileas Fogg lived, in 1872, at No. 7, Saville Row, Burlington
Gardens, the house in which Sheridan died in 1814.  He was one of the
most noticeable members of the Reform Club, though he seemed always to
avoid attracting attention; an enigmatical personage, about whom little
was known, except that he was a polished man of the world.  People said
that he resembled Byron--at least that his head was Byronic; but he was
a bearded, tranquil Byron, who might live on a thousand years without
growing old.

Certainly an Englishman, it was more doubtful whether Phileas Fogg was
a Londoner.  He was never seen on 'Change, nor at the Bank, nor in the
counting-rooms of the "City"; no ships ever came into London docks of
which he was the owner; he had no public employment; he had never been
entered at any of the Inns of Court, either at the Temple, or Lincoln's
Inn, or Gray's Inn; nor had his voice ever resounded in the Court of
Chancery, or in the Exchequer, or the Queen's Bench, or the
Ecclesiastical Courts.  He certainly was not a manufacturer; nor was he
a merchant or a gentleman farmer.  His name was strange to the
scientific and learned societies, and he never was known to take part
in the sage deliberations of the Royal Institution or the London
Institution, the Artisan's Association, or the Institution of Arts and
Sciences.  He belonged, in fact, to none of the numerous societies
which swarm in the English capital, from the Harmonic to that of the
Entomologists, founded mainly for the purpose of abolishing pernicious
insects.

Phileas Fogg was a member of the Reform, and that was all.

The way in which he got admission to this exclusive club was simple
enough.

He was recommended by the Barings, with whom he had an open credit.
His cheques were regularly paid at sight from his account current,
which was always flush.

Was Phileas Fogg rich?  Undoubtedly.  But those who knew him best could
not imagine how he had made his fortune, and Mr. Fogg was the last
person to whom to apply for the information.  He was not lavish, nor,
on the contrary, avaricious; for, whenever he knew that money was
needed for a noble, useful, or benevolent purpose, he supplied it
quietly and sometimes anonymously.  He was, in short, the least
communicative of men.  He talked very little, and seemed all the more
mysterious for his taciturn manner.  His daily habits were quite open
to observation; but whatever he did was so exactly the same thing that
he had always done before, that the wits of the curious were fairly
puzzled.

Had he travelled?  It was likely, for no one seemed to know the world
more familiarly; there was no spot so secluded that he did not appear
to have an intimate acquaintance with it.  He often corrected, with a
few clear words, the thousand conjectures advanced by members of the
club as to lost and unheard-of travellers, pointing out the true
probabilities, and seeming as if gifted with a sort of second sight, so
often did events justify his predictions.  He must have travelled
everywhere, at least in the spirit.

It was at least certain that Phileas Fogg had not absented himself from
London for many years.  Those who were honoured by a better
acquaintance with him than the rest, declared that nobody could pretend
to have ever seen him anywhere else.  His sole pastimes were reading
the papers and playing whist.  He often won at this game, which, as a
silent one, harmonised with his nature; but his winnings never went
into his purse, being reserved as a fund for his charities.  Mr. Fogg
played, not to win, but for the sake of playing.  The game was in his
eyes a contest, a struggle with a difficulty, yet a motionless,
unwearying struggle, congenial to his tastes.

Phileas Fogg was not known to have either wife or children, which may
happen to the most honest people; either relatives or near friends,
which is certainly more unusual.  He lived alone in his house in
Saville Row, whither none penetrated.  A single domestic sufficed to
serve him.  He breakfasted and dined at the club, at hours
mathematically fixed, in the same room, at the same table, never taking
his meals with other members, much less bringing a guest with him; and
went home at exactly midnight, only to retire at once to bed.  He never
used the cosy chambers which the Reform provides for its favoured
members.  He passed ten hours out of the twenty-four in Saville Row,
either in sleeping or making his toilet.  When he chose to take a walk
it was with a regular step in the entrance hall with its mosaic
flooring, or in the circular gallery with its dome supported by twenty
red porphyry Ionic columns, and illumined by blue painted windows.
When he breakfasted or dined all the resources of the club--its
kitchens and pantries, its buttery and dairy--aided to crowd his table
with their most succulent stores; he was served by the gravest waiters,
in dress coats, and shoes with swan-skin soles, who proffered the
viands in special porcelain, and on the finest linen; club decanters,
of a lost mould, contained his sherry, his port, and his
cinnamon-spiced claret; while his beverages were refreshingly cooled
with ice, brought at great cost from the American lakes.

If to live in this style is to be eccentric, it must be confessed that
there is something good in eccentricity.

The mansion in Saville Row, though not sumptuous, was exceedingly
comfortable.  The habits of its occupant were such as to demand but
little from the sole domestic, but Phileas Fogg required him to be
almost superhumanly prompt and regular.  On this very 2nd of October he
had dismissed James Forster, because that luckless youth had brought
him shaving-water at eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit instead of
eighty-six; and he was awaiting his successor, who was due at the house
between eleven and half-past.

Phileas Fogg was seated squarely in his armchair, his feet close
together like those of a grenadier on parade, his hands resting on his
knees, his body straight, his head erect; he was steadily watching a
complicated clock which indicated the hours, the minutes, the seconds,
the days, the months, and the years.  At exactly half-past eleven Mr.
Fogg would, according to his daily habit, quit Saville Row, and repair
to the Reform.

A rap at this moment sounded on the door of the cosy apartment where
Phileas Fogg was seated, and James Forster, the dismissed servant,
appeared.

"The new servant," said he.

A young man of thirty advanced and bowed.

"You are a Frenchman, I believe," asked Phileas Fogg, "and your name is
John?"

"Jean, if monsieur pleases," replied the newcomer, "Jean Passepartout,
a surname which has clung to me because I have a natural aptness for
going out of one business into another.  I believe I'm honest,
monsieur, but, to be outspoken, I've had several trades.  I've been an
itinerant singer, a circus-rider, when I used to vault like Leotard,
and dance on a rope like Blondin.  Then I got to be a professor of
gymnastics, so as to make better use of my talents; and then I was a
sergeant fireman at Paris, and assisted at many a big fire.  But I
quitted France five years ago, and, wishing to taste the sweets of
domestic life, took service as a valet here in England.  Finding myself
out of place, and hearing that Monsieur Phileas Fogg was the most exact
and settled gentleman in the United Kingdom, I have come to monsieur in
the hope of living with him a tranquil life, and forgetting even the
name of Passepartout."

"Passepartout suits me," responded Mr. Fogg.  "You are well recommended
to me; I hear a good report of you.  You know my conditions?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Good!  What time is it?"

"Twenty-two minutes after eleven," returned Passepartout, drawing an
enormous silver watch from the depths of his pocket.

"You are too slow," said Mr. Fogg.

"Pardon me, monsieur, it is impossible--"

"You are four minutes too slow.  No matter; it's enough to mention the
error.  Now from this moment, twenty-nine minutes after eleven, a.m.,
this Wednesday, 2nd October, you are in my service."

Phileas Fogg got up, took his hat in his left hand, put it on his head
with an automatic motion, and went off without a word.

Passepartout heard the street door shut once; it was his new master
going out.  He heard it shut again; it was his predecessor, James
Forster, departing in his turn.  Passepartout remained alone in the
house in Saville Row.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Mr. Phileas Fogg lived at No. 7, Savile Row, Burlington Gardens. He was one of the most noticeable members of the Reform Club, about who little was known, except that he was a polished man of the world. Little was known of his history and his source of wealth. Many conjectured as to the nature of his past. It was likely that he had traveled a great deal though it was certain that he had not absented himself from London for many years. The first part of the first chapter is primarily devoted to the description of Mr. Fogg and his activities. His activities are described as being those of a meticulous man, highly organized, punctual and habitual. When he breakfasted or dined all the resources of the club--its kitchens and pantries, its buttery and dairy--aided to crowd his table with their most succulent stores; he was served by the gravest waiters, in the best possible way. The mansion in Savile Row was exceedingly comfortable. The habits of its occupant demanded but little from the sole domestic, but Phileas Fogg required him to be superhumanly prompt and regular. He had dismissed James Forster, because that luckless youth had brought him shaving-water at a slightly different temperature than required. Passepartout had come for a job to Phileas Fogg and hoped to become the next valet. Mr. Fogg and Mr. Passepartout meet and finalize the nature of the services that Passepartout shall perform for Mr. Fogg. Mr. Passepartout is hired as a valet. Phileas Fogg then went off without a word. Passepartout heard the street door shut twice after his master and the previous servant left. Passepartout then remained alone in the house in Savile Row.


prompt:
Chapter: "Faith," muttered Passepartout, somewhat flurried, "I've seen people at
Madame Tussaud's as lively as my new master!"

Madame Tussaud's "people," let it be said, are of wax, and are much
visited in London; speech is all that is wanting to make them human.

During his brief interview with Mr. Fogg, Passepartout had been
carefully observing him.  He appeared to be a man about forty years of
age, with fine, handsome features, and a tall, well-shaped figure; his
hair and whiskers were light, his forehead compact and unwrinkled, his
face rather pale, his teeth magnificent.  His countenance possessed in
the highest degree what physiognomists call "repose in action," a
quality of those who act rather than talk.  Calm and phlegmatic, with a
clear eye, Mr. Fogg seemed a perfect type of that English composure
which Angelica Kauffmann has so skilfully represented on canvas.  Seen
in the various phases of his daily life, he gave the idea of being
perfectly well-balanced, as exactly regulated as a Leroy chronometer.
Phileas Fogg was, indeed, exactitude personified, and this was betrayed
even in the expression of his very hands and feet; for in men, as well
as in animals, the limbs themselves are expressive of the passions.

He was so exact that he was never in a hurry, was always ready, and was
economical alike of his steps and his motions.  He never took one step
too many, and always went to his destination by the shortest cut; he
made no superfluous gestures, and was never seen to be moved or
agitated.  He was the most deliberate person in the world, yet always
reached his destination at the exact moment.

He lived alone, and, so to speak, outside of every social relation; and
as he knew that in this world account must be taken of friction, and
that friction retards, he never rubbed against anybody.

As for Passepartout, he was a true Parisian of Paris.  Since he had
abandoned his own country for England, taking service as a valet, he
had in vain searched for a master after his own heart.  Passepartout
was by no means one of those pert dunces depicted by Moliere with a
bold gaze and a nose held high in the air; he was an honest fellow,
with a pleasant face, lips a trifle protruding, soft-mannered and
serviceable, with a good round head, such as one likes to see on the
shoulders of a friend.  His eyes were blue, his complexion rubicund,
his figure almost portly and well-built, his body muscular, and his
physical powers fully developed by the exercises of his younger days.
His brown hair was somewhat tumbled; for, while the ancient sculptors
are said to have known eighteen methods of arranging Minerva's tresses,
Passepartout was familiar with but one of dressing his own: three
strokes of a large-tooth comb completed his toilet.

It would be rash to predict how Passepartout's lively nature would
agree with Mr. Fogg.  It was impossible to tell whether the new servant
would turn out as absolutely methodical as his master required;
experience alone could solve the question.  Passepartout had been a
sort of vagrant in his early years, and now yearned for repose; but so
far he had failed to find it, though he had already served in ten
English houses.  But he could not take root in any of these; with
chagrin, he found his masters invariably whimsical and irregular,
constantly running about the country, or on the look-out for adventure.
His last master, young Lord Longferry, Member of Parliament, after
passing his nights in the Haymarket taverns, was too often brought home
in the morning on policemen's shoulders.  Passepartout, desirous of
respecting the gentleman whom he served, ventured a mild remonstrance
on such conduct; which, being ill-received, he took his leave.  Hearing
that Mr. Phileas Fogg was looking for a servant, and that his life was
one of unbroken regularity, that he neither travelled nor stayed from
home overnight, he felt sure that this would be the place he was after.
He presented himself, and was accepted, as has been seen.

At half-past eleven, then, Passepartout found himself alone in the
house in Saville Row.  He began its inspection without delay, scouring
it from cellar to garret.  So clean, well-arranged, solemn a mansion
pleased him; it seemed to him like a snail's shell, lighted and warmed
by gas, which sufficed for both these purposes.  When Passepartout
reached the second story he recognised at once the room which he was to
inhabit, and he was well satisfied with it.  Electric bells and
speaking-tubes afforded communication with the lower stories; while on
the mantel stood an electric clock, precisely like that in Mr. Fogg's
bedchamber, both beating the same second at the same instant.  "That's
good, that'll do," said Passepartout to himself.

He suddenly observed, hung over the clock, a card which, upon
inspection, proved to be a programme of the daily routine of the house.
It comprised all that was required of the servant, from eight in the
morning, exactly at which hour Phileas Fogg rose, till half-past
eleven, when he left the house for the Reform Club--all the details of
service, the tea and toast at twenty-three minutes past eight, the
shaving-water at thirty-seven minutes past nine, and the toilet at
twenty minutes before ten.  Everything was regulated and foreseen that
was to be done from half-past eleven a.m. till midnight, the hour at
which the methodical gentleman retired.

Mr. Fogg's wardrobe was amply supplied and in the best taste.  Each
pair of trousers, coat, and vest bore a number, indicating the time of
year and season at which they were in turn to be laid out for wearing;
and the same system was applied to the master's shoes.  In short, the
house in Saville Row, which must have been a very temple of disorder
and unrest under the illustrious but dissipated Sheridan, was cosiness,
comfort, and method idealised.  There was no study, nor were there
books, which would have been quite useless to Mr. Fogg; for at the
Reform two libraries, one of general literature and the other of law
and politics, were at his service.  A moderate-sized safe stood in his
bedroom, constructed so as to defy fire as well as burglars; but
Passepartout found neither arms nor hunting weapons anywhere;
everything betrayed the most tranquil and peaceable habits.

Having scrutinised the house from top to bottom, he rubbed his hands, a
broad smile overspread his features, and he said joyfully, "This is
just what I wanted!  Ah, we shall get on together, Mr. Fogg and I!
What a domestic and regular gentleman!  A real machine; well, I don't
mind serving a machine."

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: During his brief interview with Mr. Fogg, Passepartout had been carefully observing him. He appeared to be a man about forty years of age, with fine, handsome features, and a tall, well shaped figure. His countenance possessed in the highest degree "repose in action," a quality of those who act rather than talk. Seen in the various phases of his daily life, he gave the idea of being perfectly well balanced. Phileas Foggs immaculate appearance and efficient behavior is now described. As for Passepartout, he was a true Parisian of Paris. Since he had abandoned his own country for England, taking service as a valet, he had in vain searched for a master after his own heart. He was unlike other servants and had a certain class despite his colorful past. The author continues with his third person narrative - " It would be rash to predict how Passepartouts lively nature would agree with Mr. Fogg. It was impossible to tell whether the new servant would turn out as absolutely methodical as his master required; experience alone could solve the question. " Passepartout himself is described as a man who had been a sort of vagrant in his early years, and who now yearned for repose. Passepartout was desirous of respecting the gentleman whom he served. Hearing that Mr. Phileas Fogg was looking for a servant, and that his life was one of unbroken regularity, he felt sure that this would be the place he was after. When Passepartout found himself alone in the house in Saville Row, he inspected it, and found the neatness quite to his liking. He observed, hung over the clock, a card which, upon inspection, proved to be a program of the daily routine of the house. It comprised all that was required of the servant, from morning till night. In short, the house, which must have been a very temple of disorder and unrest under the illustrious but dissipated Sheridan, was comfort, and method idealized. Passepartout is very pleased with the state of things and looks forward to his service with his master, Mr. Fogg.


prompt:
Chapter: Phileas Fogg, having shut the door of his house at half-past eleven,
and having put his right foot before his left five hundred and
seventy-five times, and his left foot before his right five hundred and
seventy-six times, reached the Reform Club, an imposing edifice in Pall
Mall, which could not have cost less than three millions.  He repaired
at once to the dining-room, the nine windows of which open upon a
tasteful garden, where the trees were already gilded with an autumn
colouring; and took his place at the habitual table, the cover of which
had already been laid for him.  His breakfast consisted of a side-dish,
a broiled fish with Reading sauce, a scarlet slice of roast beef
garnished with mushrooms, a rhubarb and gooseberry tart, and a morsel
of Cheshire cheese, the whole being washed down with several cups of
tea, for which the Reform is famous.  He rose at thirteen minutes to
one, and directed his steps towards the large hall, a sumptuous
apartment adorned with lavishly-framed paintings.  A flunkey handed him
an uncut Times, which he proceeded to cut with a skill which betrayed
familiarity with this delicate operation.  The perusal of this paper
absorbed Phileas Fogg until a quarter before four, whilst the Standard,
his next task, occupied him till the dinner hour.  Dinner passed as
breakfast had done, and Mr. Fogg re-appeared in the reading-room and
sat down to the Pall Mall at twenty minutes before six.  Half an hour
later several members of the Reform came in and drew up to the
fireplace, where a coal fire was steadily burning.  They were Mr.
Fogg's usual partners at whist: Andrew Stuart, an engineer; John
Sullivan and Samuel Fallentin, bankers; Thomas Flanagan, a brewer; and
Gauthier Ralph, one of the Directors of the Bank of England--all rich
and highly respectable personages, even in a club which comprises the
princes of English trade and finance.

"Well, Ralph," said Thomas Flanagan, "what about that robbery?"

"Oh," replied Stuart, "the Bank will lose the money."

"On the contrary," broke in Ralph, "I hope we may put our hands on the
robber.  Skilful detectives have been sent to all the principal ports
of America and the Continent, and he'll be a clever fellow if he slips
through their fingers."

"But have you got the robber's description?" asked Stuart.

"In the first place, he is no robber at all," returned Ralph,
positively.

"What! a fellow who makes off with fifty-five thousand pounds, no
robber?"

"No."

"Perhaps he's a manufacturer, then."

"The Daily Telegraph says that he is a gentleman."

It was Phileas Fogg, whose head now emerged from behind his newspapers,
who made this remark.  He bowed to his friends, and entered into the
conversation.  The affair which formed its subject, and which was town
talk, had occurred three days before at the Bank of England.  A package
of banknotes, to the value of fifty-five thousand pounds, had been
taken from the principal cashier's table, that functionary being at the
moment engaged in registering the receipt of three shillings and
sixpence.  Of course, he could not have his eyes everywhere.  Let it be
observed that the Bank of England reposes a touching confidence in the
honesty of the public.  There are neither guards nor gratings to
protect its treasures; gold, silver, banknotes are freely exposed, at
the mercy of the first comer.  A keen observer of English customs
relates that, being in one of the rooms of the Bank one day, he had the
curiosity to examine a gold ingot weighing some seven or eight pounds.
He took it up, scrutinised it, passed it to his neighbour, he to the
next man, and so on until the ingot, going from hand to hand, was
transferred to the end of a dark entry; nor did it return to its place
for half an hour.  Meanwhile, the cashier had not so much as raised his
head.  But in the present instance things had not gone so smoothly.
The package of notes not being found when five o'clock sounded from the
ponderous clock in the "drawing office," the amount was passed to the
account of profit and loss.  As soon as the robbery was discovered,
picked detectives hastened off to Liverpool, Glasgow, Havre, Suez,
Brindisi, New York, and other ports, inspired by the proffered reward
of two thousand pounds, and five per cent. on the sum that might be
recovered.  Detectives were also charged with narrowly watching those
who arrived at or left London by rail, and a judicial examination was
at once entered upon.

There were real grounds for supposing, as the Daily Telegraph said,
that the thief did not belong to a professional band.  On the day of
the robbery a well-dressed gentleman of polished manners, and with a
well-to-do air, had been observed going to and fro in the paying room
where the crime was committed.  A description of him was easily
procured and sent to the detectives; and some hopeful spirits, of whom
Ralph was one, did not despair of his apprehension.  The papers and
clubs were full of the affair, and everywhere people were discussing
the probabilities of a successful pursuit; and the Reform Club was
especially agitated, several of its members being Bank officials.

Ralph would not concede that the work of the detectives was likely to
be in vain, for he thought that the prize offered would greatly
stimulate their zeal and activity.  But Stuart was far from sharing
this confidence; and, as they placed themselves at the whist-table,
they continued to argue the matter.  Stuart and Flanagan played
together, while Phileas Fogg had Fallentin for his partner.  As the
game proceeded the conversation ceased, excepting between the rubbers,
when it revived again.

"I maintain," said Stuart, "that the chances are in favour of the
thief, who must be a shrewd fellow."

"Well, but where can he fly to?" asked Ralph.  "No country is safe for
him."

"Pshaw!"

"Where could he go, then?"

"Oh, I don't know that.  The world is big enough."

"It was once," said Phileas Fogg, in a low tone.  "Cut, sir," he added,
handing the cards to Thomas Flanagan.

The discussion fell during the rubber, after which Stuart took up its
thread.

"What do you mean by `once'?  Has the world grown smaller?"

"Certainly," returned Ralph.  "I agree with Mr. Fogg.  The world has
grown smaller, since a man can now go round it ten times more quickly
than a hundred years ago.  And that is why the search for this thief
will be more likely to succeed."

"And also why the thief can get away more easily."

"Be so good as to play, Mr. Stuart," said Phileas Fogg.

But the incredulous Stuart was not convinced, and when the hand was
finished, said eagerly: "You have a strange way, Ralph, of proving that
the world has grown smaller.  So, because you can go round it in three
months--"

"In eighty days," interrupted Phileas Fogg.

"That is true, gentlemen," added John Sullivan.  "Only eighty days, now
that the section between Rothal and Allahabad, on the Great Indian
Peninsula Railway, has been opened.  Here is the estimate made by the
Daily Telegraph:

  From London to Suez via Mont Cenis and
    Brindisi, by rail and steamboats .................  7 days
  From Suez to Bombay, by steamer .................... 13  "
  From Bombay to Calcutta, by rail ...................  3  "
  From Calcutta to Hong Kong, by steamer ............. 13  "
  From Hong Kong to Yokohama (Japan), by steamer .....  6  "
  From Yokohama to San Francisco, by steamer ......... 22  "
  From San Francisco to New York, by rail ............. 7  "
  From New York to London, by steamer and rail ........ 9  "
                                                       ------
    Total ............................................ 80 days."

"Yes, in eighty days!" exclaimed Stuart, who in his excitement made a
false deal.  "But that doesn't take into account bad weather, contrary
winds, shipwrecks, railway accidents, and so on."

"All included," returned Phileas Fogg, continuing to play despite the
discussion.

"But suppose the Hindoos or Indians pull up the rails," replied Stuart;
"suppose they stop the trains, pillage the luggage-vans, and scalp the
passengers!"

"All included," calmly retorted Fogg; adding, as he threw down the
cards, "Two trumps."

Stuart, whose turn it was to deal, gathered them up, and went on: "You
are right, theoretically, Mr. Fogg, but practically--"

"Practically also, Mr. Stuart."

"I'd like to see you do it in eighty days."

"It depends on you.  Shall we go?"

"Heaven preserve me!  But I would wager four thousand pounds that such
a journey, made under these conditions, is impossible."

"Quite possible, on the contrary," returned Mr. Fogg.

"Well, make it, then!"

"The journey round the world in eighty days?"

"Yes."

"I should like nothing better."

"When?"

"At once.  Only I warn you that I shall do it at your expense."

"It's absurd!" cried Stuart, who was beginning to be annoyed at the
persistency of his friend.  "Come, let's go on with the game."

"Deal over again, then," said Phileas Fogg.  "There's a false deal."

Stuart took up the pack with a feverish hand; then suddenly put them
down again.

"Well, Mr. Fogg," said he, "it shall be so: I will wager the four
thousand on it."

"Calm yourself, my dear Stuart," said Fallentin.  "It's only a joke."

"When I say I'll wager," returned Stuart, "I mean it."

"All right," said Mr. Fogg; and, turning to the others, he continued:
"I have a deposit of twenty thousand at Baring's which I will willingly
risk upon it."

"Twenty thousand pounds!" cried Sullivan.  "Twenty thousand pounds,
which you would lose by a single accidental delay!"

"The unforeseen does not exist," quietly replied Phileas Fogg.

"But, Mr. Fogg, eighty days are only the estimate of the least possible
time in which the journey can be made."

"A well-used minimum suffices for everything."

"But, in order not to exceed it, you must jump mathematically from the
trains upon the steamers, and from the steamers upon the trains again."

"I will jump--mathematically."

"You are joking."

"A true Englishman doesn't joke when he is talking about so serious a
thing as a wager," replied Phileas Fogg, solemnly.  "I will bet twenty
thousand pounds against anyone who wishes that I will make the tour of
the world in eighty days or less; in nineteen hundred and twenty hours,
or a hundred and fifteen thousand two hundred minutes.  Do you accept?"

"We accept," replied Messrs. Stuart, Fallentin, Sullivan, Flanagan, and
Ralph, after consulting each other.

"Good," said Mr. Fogg.  "The train leaves for Dover at a quarter before
nine.  I will take it."

"This very evening?" asked Stuart.

"This very evening," returned Phileas Fogg.  He took out and consulted
a pocket almanac, and added,  "As today is Wednesday, the 2nd of
October, I shall be due in London in this very room of the Reform Club,
on Saturday, the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine p.m.; or
else the twenty thousand pounds, now deposited in my name at Baring's,
will belong to you, in fact and in right, gentlemen.  Here is a cheque
for the amount."

A memorandum of the wager was at once drawn up and signed by the six
parties, during which Phileas Fogg preserved a stoical composure.  He
certainly did not bet to win, and had only staked the twenty thousand
pounds, half of his fortune, because he foresaw that he might have to
expend the other half to carry out this difficult, not to say
unattainable, project.  As for his antagonists, they seemed much
agitated; not so much by the value of their stake, as because they had
some scruples about betting under conditions so difficult to their
friend.

The clock struck seven, and the party offered to suspend the game so
that Mr. Fogg might make his preparations for departure.

"I am quite ready now," was his tranquil response.  "Diamonds are
trumps: be so good as to play, gentlemen."

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Phileas Fogg, reached the Reform Club, an imposing edifice in Pall Mall. He repaired at once to the dining room and took his place at the habitual table. His breakfast is minutely described. He then spent a considerable amount of time reading newspapers. Dinner passed as breakfast had done, and Mr. Fogg reappeared in the reading room. Mr. Foggs usual partners at whist appear and they all begin to discuss a famous robbery that had recently taken place at a bank in London. Phileas joins this conversation when he says that - The Daily Telegraph says that he  is a gentleman. " The affair, which formed the subject, was this - A package of banknotes, to the value of fifty-five thousand pounds, had been taken from the principal cashiers table. When the money was not found even at five oclock, the amount was passed to the account of profit and loss. As soon as the robbery was discovered, picked detectives hastened off to various ports, inspired by the proffered reward of two thousand pounds, and five per cent on the sum that might be recovered. There were real grounds for supposing that the thief did not belong to a professional band but was a gentleman. The papers and clubs were full of the affair, and everywhere people were discussing the probabilities of a successful pursuit; and the Reform Club was especially agitated, several of its members being Bank officials. Ralph and Stuart, both whist players argue whether the thief would be caught or not. Stuart questions - Where could he  go, then? Ralph replies - "Oh, I dont know that. The world is big enough. " It is here that Fogg once again joins the conversation, when he says - "It was once,". Phileas Fogg is questioned as to what he means by once and then the conversation proceeds in such a way that Mr. Fogg declares that it is possible to go around the world in eighty days. John Sullivan supports this conjecture and shows the group the estimate made by the Daily Telegraph that claims that a journey round the world can be done in eighty days. Mr. Stuart thinks that the journey may sound plausible theoretically but is not feasible practically. He dares Mr. Fogg to complete such a feat himself and in his excitement, he puts a wager of four thousand. Phileas Fogg insists that he can carry out the exercise and says - "A true Englishman doesnt joke when he is talking about so serious a thing as a wager," He bets twenty thousand pounds against anyone that he will make the tour of the world in eighty days or less. "We accept," replied Messrs. Stuart, Fallentin, Sullivan, Flanagan, and Ralph, after consulting each other. Mr. Fogg decides to take the train to Dover that very evening and tells his challengers that he would be back in the Reform Club, on Saturday, the 21 st of December. A memorandum of the wager was at once drawn up and signed by the six parties. The party offered to suspend the game so that Mr. Fogg might make his preparations for departure but the latter is calm and insists on playing some more.


prompt:
Chapter: Having won twenty guineas at whist, and taken leave of his friends,
Phileas Fogg, at twenty-five minutes past seven, left the Reform Club.

Passepartout, who had conscientiously studied the programme of his
duties, was more than surprised to see his master guilty of the
inexactness of appearing at this unaccustomed hour; for, according to
rule, he was not due in Saville Row until precisely midnight.

Mr. Fogg repaired to his bedroom, and called out, "Passepartout!"

Passepartout did not reply.  It could not be he who was called; it was
not the right hour.

"Passepartout!" repeated Mr. Fogg, without raising his voice.

Passepartout made his appearance.

"I've called you twice," observed his master.

"But it is not midnight," responded the other, showing his watch.

"I know it; I don't blame you.  We start for Dover and Calais in ten
minutes."

A puzzled grin overspread Passepartout's round face; clearly he had not
comprehended his master.

"Monsieur is going to leave home?"

"Yes," returned Phileas Fogg.  "We are going round the world."

Passepartout opened wide his eyes, raised his eyebrows, held up his
hands, and seemed about to collapse, so overcome was he with stupefied
astonishment.

"Round the world!" he murmured.

"In eighty days," responded Mr. Fogg.  "So we haven't a moment to lose."

"But the trunks?" gasped Passepartout, unconsciously swaying his head
from right to left.

"We'll have no trunks; only a carpet-bag, with two shirts and three
pairs of stockings for me, and the same for you.  We'll buy our clothes
on the way.  Bring down my mackintosh and traveling-cloak, and some
stout shoes, though we shall do little walking.  Make haste!"

Passepartout tried to reply, but could not.  He went out, mounted to
his own room, fell into a chair, and muttered: "That's good, that is!
And I, who wanted to remain quiet!"

He mechanically set about making the preparations for departure.
Around the world in eighty days!  Was his master a fool?  No.  Was this
a joke, then?  They were going to Dover; good!  To Calais; good again!
After all, Passepartout, who had been away from France five years,
would not be sorry to set foot on his native soil again.  Perhaps they
would go as far as Paris, and it would do his eyes good to see Paris
once more.  But surely a gentleman so chary of his steps would stop
there; no doubt--but, then, it was none the less true that he was
going away, this so domestic person hitherto!

By eight o'clock Passepartout had packed the modest carpet-bag,
containing the wardrobes of his master and himself; then, still
troubled in mind, he carefully shut the door of his room, and descended
to Mr. Fogg.

Mr. Fogg was quite ready.  Under his arm might have been observed a
red-bound copy of Bradshaw's Continental Railway Steam Transit and
General Guide, with its timetables showing the arrival and departure of
steamers and railways.  He took the carpet-bag, opened it, and slipped
into it a goodly roll of Bank of England notes, which would pass
wherever he might go.

"You have forgotten nothing?" asked he.

"Nothing, monsieur."

"My mackintosh and cloak?"

"Here they are."

"Good!  Take this carpet-bag," handing it to Passepartout.  "Take good
care of it, for there are twenty thousand pounds in it."

Passepartout nearly dropped the bag, as if the twenty thousand pounds
were in gold, and weighed him down.

Master and man then descended, the street-door was double-locked, and
at the end of Saville Row they took a cab and drove rapidly to Charing
Cross.  The cab stopped before the railway station at twenty minutes
past eight.  Passepartout jumped off the box and followed his master,
who, after paying the cabman, was about to enter the station, when a
poor beggar-woman, with a child in her arms, her naked feet smeared
with mud, her head covered with a wretched bonnet, from which hung a
tattered feather, and her shoulders shrouded in a ragged shawl,
approached, and mournfully asked for alms.

Mr. Fogg took out the twenty guineas he had just won at whist, and
handed them to the beggar, saying, "Here, my good woman.  I'm glad that
I met you;" and passed on.

Passepartout had a moist sensation about the eyes; his master's action
touched his susceptible heart.

Two first-class tickets for Paris having been speedily purchased, Mr.
Fogg was crossing the station to the train, when he perceived his five
friends of the Reform.

"Well, gentlemen," said he, "I'm off, you see; and, if you will examine
my passport when I get back, you will be able to judge whether I have
accomplished the journey agreed upon."

"Oh, that would be quite unnecessary, Mr. Fogg," said Ralph politely.
"We will trust your word, as a gentleman of honour."

"You do not forget when you are due in London again?"  asked Stuart.

"In eighty days; on Saturday, the 21st of December, 1872, at a quarter
before nine p.m.  Good-bye, gentlemen."

Phileas Fogg and his servant seated themselves in a first-class
carriage at twenty minutes before nine; five minutes later the whistle
screamed, and the train slowly glided out of the station.

The night was dark, and a fine, steady rain was falling.  Phileas Fogg,
snugly ensconced in his corner, did not open his lips.  Passepartout,
not yet recovered from his stupefaction, clung mechanically to the
carpet-bag, with its enormous treasure.

Just as the train was whirling through Sydenham, Passepartout suddenly
uttered a cry of despair.

"What's the matter?" asked Mr. Fogg.

"Alas!  In my hurry--I--I forgot--"

"What?"

"To turn off the gas in my room!"

"Very well, young man," returned Mr. Fogg, coolly; "it will burn--at
your expense."

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Having won twenty guineas at whist, Phileas Fogg takes leave of his friends. Passepartout, who had studied the program of his duties, was surprised to see his master guilty of the inexactness of appearing at an unaccustomed hour; for, according to rule, he was not due in Savile Row until midnight. Passerpartout is even more surprised when he is told that they shall be starting for Dover and Calais in ten minutes. On being told that they shall be going around the world, Passerpartout is completely taken aback as he had been expecting a very quiet life with his master. The servant is told that they shall be travelling very light and would have no need of heavy trunks. Passepartout tried to reply to his master, but could not. He went out, mounted to his own room, fell into a chair, and muttered: "Thats good, that is! And I, who wanted to remain quiet!" He mechanically set about making the preparations for departure. He thinks that perhaps they would go as far as Paris, and it would do his eyes good to see Paris once more. By eight oclock Passepartout had packed the modest carpet-bag, containing the wardrobes of his master and himself; then, still troubled in mind, he carefully shut the door of his room, and descended to Mr. Fogg. Mr. Fogg was quite ready. Under his was a red bound copy of Bradshaws Continental Railway Steam Transit and General Guide, with its timetables showing the arrival and departure of steamers and railways. He took the carpetbag, opened it, and slipped into it a goodly roll of Bank of England notes, which would pass wherever he might go. Passepartout is told to take care of the carpetbag as it has twenty thousand pounds in it. Master and man then descended, the street door was double locked, and they took a cab and drove rapidly to Charing Cross. When they reached the station, they came across a beggar woman who asked them for alms. Mr. Fogg is very generous and gives her twenty guineas. Passerpartouts masters action touched his susceptible heart. Two first class tickets for Paris having been speedily purchased, Mr. Fogg was crossing the station to the train, when he perceived his five friends of the Reform. He tells them that they will be able to assure themselves that he has really been around the world, by checking his passport. Fogg and his servant then seated themselves in a first class carriage. The night was dark, and a fine, steady rain was falling. Phileas Fogg, snugly ensconced in his corner, did not open his lips. Passepartout, not yet recovered from his stupefaction, clung mechanically to the carpetbag, with its enormous treasure. Just as the train was whirling through Sydenham, Passepartout suddenly realized that he had left the gas in his room on." Very well, young man," returned Mr. Fogg, coolly; "it will burn at your expense."


prompt:
Chapter: Phileas Fogg rightly suspected that his departure from London would
create a lively sensation at the West End.  The news of the bet spread
through the Reform Club, and afforded an exciting topic of conversation
to its members.  From the club it soon got into the papers throughout
England.  The boasted "tour of the world" was talked about, disputed,
argued with as much warmth as if the subject were another Alabama
claim.  Some took sides with Phileas Fogg, but the large majority shook
their heads and declared against him; it was absurd, impossible, they
declared, that the tour of the world could be made, except
theoretically and on paper, in this minimum of time, and with the
existing means of travelling.  The Times, Standard, Morning Post, and
Daily News, and twenty other highly respectable newspapers scouted Mr.
Fogg's project as madness; the Daily Telegraph alone hesitatingly
supported him.  People in general thought him a lunatic, and blamed his
Reform Club friends for having accepted a wager which betrayed the
mental aberration of its proposer.

Articles no less passionate than logical appeared on the question, for
geography is one of the pet subjects of the English; and the columns
devoted to Phileas Fogg's venture were eagerly devoured by all classes
of readers.  At first some rash individuals, principally of the gentler
sex, espoused his cause, which became still more popular when the
Illustrated London News came out with his portrait, copied from a
photograph in the Reform Club.  A few readers of the Daily Telegraph
even dared to say, "Why not, after all?  Stranger things have come to
pass."

At last a long article appeared, on the 7th of October, in the bulletin
of the Royal Geographical Society, which treated the question from
every point of view, and demonstrated the utter folly of the enterprise.

Everything, it said, was against the travellers, every obstacle imposed
alike by man and by nature.  A miraculous agreement of the times of
departure and arrival, which was impossible, was absolutely necessary
to his success.  He might, perhaps, reckon on the arrival of trains at
the designated hours, in Europe, where the distances were relatively
moderate; but when he calculated upon crossing India in three days, and
the United States in seven, could he rely beyond misgiving upon
accomplishing his task?  There were accidents to machinery, the
liability of trains to run off the line, collisions, bad weather, the
blocking up by snow--were not all these against Phileas Fogg?  Would he
not find himself, when travelling by steamer in winter, at the mercy of
the winds and fogs?  Is it uncommon for the best ocean steamers to be
two or three days behind time?  But a single delay would suffice to
fatally break the chain of communication; should Phileas Fogg once
miss, even by an hour; a steamer, he would have to wait for the next,
and that would irrevocably render his attempt vain.

This article made a great deal of noise, and, being copied into all the
papers, seriously depressed the advocates of the rash tourist.

Everybody knows that England is the world of betting men, who are of a
higher class than mere gamblers; to bet is in the English temperament.
Not only the members of the Reform, but the general public, made heavy
wagers for or against Phileas Fogg, who was set down in the betting
books as if he were a race-horse.  Bonds were issued, and made their
appearance on 'Change; "Phileas Fogg bonds" were offered at par or at a
premium, and a great business was done in them.  But five days after
the article in the bulletin of the Geographical Society appeared, the
demand began to subside:  "Phileas Fogg" declined.  They were offered
by packages, at first of five, then of ten, until at last nobody would
take less than twenty, fifty, a hundred!

Lord Albemarle, an elderly paralytic gentleman, was now the only
advocate of Phileas Fogg left.  This noble lord, who was fastened to
his chair, would have given his fortune to be able to make the tour of
the world, if it took ten years; and he bet five thousand pounds on
Phileas Fogg.  When the folly as well as the uselessness of the
adventure was pointed out to him, he contented himself with replying,
"If the thing is feasible, the first to do it ought to be an
Englishman."

The Fogg party dwindled more and more, everybody was going against him,
and the bets stood a hundred and fifty and two hundred to one; and a
week after his departure an incident occurred which deprived him of
backers at any price.

The commissioner of police was sitting in his office at nine o'clock
one evening, when the following telegraphic dispatch was put into his
hands:

Suez to London.

Rowan, Commissioner of Police, Scotland Yard:

I've found the bank robber, Phileas Fogg.  Send with out delay warrant
of arrest to Bombay.

Fix, Detective.

The effect of this dispatch was instantaneous.  The polished gentleman
disappeared to give place to the bank robber.  His photograph, which
was hung with those of the rest of the members at the Reform Club, was
minutely examined, and it betrayed, feature by feature, the description
of the robber which had been provided to the police.  The mysterious
habits of Phileas Fogg were recalled; his solitary ways, his sudden
departure; and it seemed clear that, in undertaking a tour round the
world on the pretext of a wager, he had had no other end in view than
to elude the detectives, and throw them off his track.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Phileas Fogg rightly suspected that his departure from London would create a lively sensation. The news of the bet spread through the Reform Club, and got into the papers throughout England. The boasted "tour of the world" was talked about, disputed and argued by many. Some took sides with Phileas Fogg, but the large majority shook their heads and declared against him. Those who did not support him declared, that the tour of the world could be made, but only theoretically. Numerous articles in papers debated the question of the possibility of such a journey. The ladies supported Fogg after seeing a picture of his handsome figure. At last a long article appeared, on the 7 th of October, in the bulletin of the Royal Geographical Society, which treated the question from every point of view, and demonstrated the utter folly of the enterprise. It showed how Fogg would have to mathematically jump from trains to ships and so on to be able to accomplish the task at hand. It pointed out the many obstacles that would be faced. This article made a great deal of noise, and, being copied into all the papers, seriously depressed the advocates of the rash tourist. England is the world of betting men, who are of a higher class than mere gamblers. Not only the members of the Reform, but the general public, made heavy wagers for or against Phileas Fogg, who was set down in the betting books as if he were a race-horse. Bonds were issued, and made their appearance on Change. Though after the article, the value of Fogg stock declined. Lord Albemarle, an elderly paralytic gentleman, was now the only advocate of Phileas Fogg left. He felt that if the journey could be accomplished, an Englishman should complete it first. The Fogg party dwindled more and more, everybody was going against him, and the bets stood a hundred and fifty and two hundred to one; and a week after his departure an incident occurred which deprived him of backers at any price. The commissioner of police received the following telegraphic dispatch:- Suez. Rowan, Chief of Police, Scotland Yard, London. ' Am shadowing bank thief, Phileas Fogg. Send without delay warrant for arrest Bombay .Detective Fix' The effect of this dispatch was instantaneous. The polished gentleman disappeared to give place to the bank robber. His photograph was minutely examined, and it betrayed, feature by feature, the description of the robber which had been provided to the police. The mysterious habits of Phileas Fogg were recalled; his solitary ways, his sudden departure; and it seemed clear that, in undertaking a tour round the world on the pretext of a wager, he had no other end in view than to elude the detectives, and throw them off his track.


prompt:
Chapter: The circumstances under which this telegraphic dispatch about Phileas
Fogg was sent were as follows:

The steamer Mongolia, belonging to the Peninsular and Oriental Company,
built of iron, of two thousand eight hundred tons burden, and five
hundred horse-power, was due at eleven o'clock a.m. on Wednesday, the
9th of October, at Suez.  The Mongolia plied regularly between Brindisi
and Bombay via the Suez Canal, and was one of the fastest steamers
belonging to the company, always making more than ten knots an hour
between Brindisi and Suez, and nine and a half between Suez and Bombay.

Two men were promenading up and down the wharves, among the crowd of
natives and strangers who were sojourning at this once straggling
village--now, thanks to the enterprise of M. Lesseps, a fast-growing
town.  One was the British consul at Suez, who, despite the prophecies
of the English Government, and the unfavourable predictions of
Stephenson, was in the habit of seeing, from his office window, English
ships daily passing to and fro on the great canal, by which the old
roundabout route from England to India by the Cape of Good Hope was
abridged by at least a half.  The other was a small, slight-built
personage, with a nervous, intelligent face, and bright eyes peering
out from under eyebrows which he was incessantly twitching.  He was
just now manifesting unmistakable signs of impatience, nervously pacing
up and down, and unable to stand still for a moment.  This was Fix, one
of the detectives who had been dispatched from England in search of the
bank robber; it was his task to narrowly watch every passenger who
arrived at Suez, and to follow up all who seemed to be suspicious
characters, or bore a resemblance to the description of the criminal,
which he had received two days before from the police headquarters at
London.  The detective was evidently inspired by the hope of obtaining
the splendid reward which would be the prize of success, and awaited
with a feverish impatience, easy to understand, the arrival of the
steamer Mongolia.

"So you say, consul," asked he for the twentieth time, "that this
steamer is never behind time?"

"No, Mr. Fix," replied the consul.  "She was bespoken yesterday at Port
Said, and the rest of the way is of no account to such a craft.  I
repeat that the Mongolia has been in advance of the time required by
the company's regulations, and gained the prize awarded for excess of
speed."

"Does she come directly from Brindisi?"

"Directly from Brindisi; she takes on the Indian mails there, and she
left there Saturday at five p.m.  Have patience, Mr. Fix; she will not
be late.  But really, I don't see how, from the description you have,
you will be able to recognise your man, even if he is on board the
Mongolia."

"A man rather feels the presence of these fellows, consul, than
recognises them.  You must have a scent for them, and a scent is like a
sixth sense which combines hearing, seeing, and smelling.  I've
arrested more than one of these gentlemen in my time, and, if my thief
is on board, I'll answer for it; he'll not slip through my fingers."

"I hope so, Mr. Fix, for it was a heavy robbery."

"A magnificent robbery, consul; fifty-five thousand pounds!  We don't
often have such windfalls.  Burglars are getting to be so contemptible
nowadays!  A fellow gets hung for a handful of shillings!"

"Mr. Fix," said the consul, "I like your way of talking, and hope
you'll succeed; but I fear you will find it far from easy.  Don't you
see, the description which you have there has a singular resemblance to
an honest man?"

"Consul," remarked the detective, dogmatically, "great robbers always
resemble honest folks.  Fellows who have rascally faces have only one
course to take, and that is to remain honest; otherwise they would be
arrested off-hand.  The artistic thing is, to unmask honest
countenances; it's no light task, I admit, but a real art."

Mr. Fix evidently was not wanting in a tinge of self-conceit.

Little by little the scene on the quay became more animated; sailors of
various nations, merchants, ship-brokers, porters, fellahs, bustled to
and fro as if the steamer were immediately expected.  The weather was
clear, and slightly chilly.  The minarets of the town loomed above the
houses in the pale rays of the sun.  A jetty pier, some two thousand
yards along, extended into the roadstead.  A number of fishing-smacks
and coasting boats, some retaining the fantastic fashion of ancient
galleys, were discernible on the Red Sea.

As he passed among the busy crowd, Fix, according to habit, scrutinised
the passers-by with a keen, rapid glance.

It was now half-past ten.

"The steamer doesn't come!" he exclaimed, as the port clock struck.

"She can't be far off now," returned his companion.

"How long will she stop at Suez?"

"Four hours; long enough to get in her coal.  It is thirteen hundred
and ten miles from Suez to Aden, at the other end of the Red Sea, and
she has to take in a fresh coal supply."

"And does she go from Suez directly to Bombay?"

"Without putting in anywhere."

"Good!" said Fix.  "If the robber is on board he will no doubt get off
at Suez, so as to reach the Dutch or French colonies in Asia by some
other route.  He ought to know that he would not be safe an hour in
India, which is English soil."

"Unless," objected the consul, "he is exceptionally shrewd.  An English
criminal, you know, is always better concealed in London than anywhere
else."

This observation furnished the detective food for thought, and
meanwhile the consul went away to his office.  Fix, left alone, was
more impatient than ever, having a presentiment that the robber was on
board the Mongolia.  If he had indeed left London intending to reach
the New World, he would naturally take the route via India, which was
less watched and more difficult to watch than that of the Atlantic.
But Fix's reflections were soon interrupted by a succession of sharp
whistles, which announced the arrival of the Mongolia.  The porters and
fellahs rushed down the quay, and a dozen boats pushed off from the
shore to go and meet the steamer.  Soon her gigantic hull appeared
passing along between the banks, and eleven o'clock struck as she
anchored in the road.  She brought an unusual number of passengers,
some of whom remained on deck to scan the picturesque panorama of the
town, while the greater part disembarked in the boats, and landed on
the quay.

Fix took up a position, and carefully examined each face and figure
which made its appearance.  Presently one of the passengers, after
vigorously pushing his way through the importunate crowd of porters,
came up to him and politely asked if he could point out the English
consulate, at the same time showing a passport which he wished to have
visaed.  Fix instinctively took the passport, and with a rapid glance
read the description of its bearer.  An involuntary motion of surprise
nearly escaped him, for the description in the passport was identical
with that of the bank robber which he had received from Scotland Yard.

"Is this your passport?" asked he.

"No, it's my master's."

"And your master is--"

"He stayed on board."

"But he must go to the consul's in person, so as to establish his
identity."

"Oh, is that necessary?"

"Quite indispensable."

"And where is the consulate?"

"There, on the corner of the square," said Fix, pointing to a house two
hundred steps off.

"I'll go and fetch my master, who won't be much pleased, however, to be
disturbed."

The passenger bowed to Fix, and returned to the steamer.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: In this chapter, Verne explains the circumstances in which the above mentioned telegraphic dispatch about Phileas Fogg was sent. The steamer Mongolia, belonging to the Peninsular and Oriental Company, was due at eleven oclock a.m. on the 9 th of October, at Suez. The Mongolia plied regularly between Brindisi and Bombay via the Suez Canal. Two men were promenading up and down the wharves, among the crowd of natives. One was the British consul at Suez, who was in the habit of seeing, from his office window, English ships daily passing to and fro on the great canal. The other was a small built personage with a nervous, intelligent face, and bright eyes peering out from under eyebrows, which he was incessantly twitching. He was manifesting signs of impatience, nervously pacing up and down. This was Fix, one of the detectives who had been dispatched from England in search of the bank robber. It was his responsibility to note all suspicious looking people. The detective was inspired by the hope of obtaining the splendid reward, which would be the prize of success, and waited with a feverish impatience, the arrival of the steamer Mongolia. He has a conversation with the consul, while awaiting the arrival of the Mongolia, in which he explains how he proposed to find the robber. Mr. Fix evidently was not wanting in a tinge of self-conceit. As he passed among the busy crowd, Fix, scrutinized the passers by with a keen, rapid glance. He was irritated that the Mongolia had not yet come in and was questioning the consul on the course of the ship. The consul pointed out that the bank robber might be able to successfully hide in England itself, without leaving the country. This observation furnished the detective food for thought, and meanwhile the consul went away to his office. Fix had a feeling that the robber would be on board the Mongolia. When the ship came in, Fix carefully examined each face and figure, which made its appearance. One of the passengers came up to him and politely asked if he could point out the English consulate, at the same time showing a passport which he wished to have validated. Fix took the passport, and with a rapid glance read the description of its bearer. An involuntary motion of surprise nearly escaped him, for the description in the passport was identical with that of the bank robber, which he had received from Scotland Yard. He found out that the passport was that of the mans master and he advised the questioner that for getting the passport validated, the master would have to make an appearance himself at the Consulate.


prompt:
Chapter: The detective passed down the quay, and rapidly made his way to the
consul's office, where he was at once admitted to the presence of that
official.

"Consul," said he, without preamble, "I have strong reasons for
believing that my man is a passenger on the Mongolia." And he narrated
what had just passed concerning the passport.

"Well, Mr. Fix," replied the consul, "I shall not be sorry to see the
rascal's face; but perhaps he won't come here--that is, if he is the
person you suppose him to be.  A robber doesn't quite like to leave
traces of his flight behind him; and, besides, he is not obliged to
have his passport countersigned."

"If he is as shrewd as I think he is, consul, he will come."

"To have his passport visaed?"

"Yes.  Passports are only good for annoying honest folks, and aiding in
the flight of rogues.  I assure you it will be quite the thing for him
to do; but I hope you will not visa the passport."

"Why not?  If the passport is genuine I have no right to refuse."

"Still, I must keep this man here until I can get a warrant to arrest
him from London."

"Ah, that's your look-out.  But I cannot--"

The consul did not finish his sentence, for as he spoke a knock was
heard at the door, and two strangers entered, one of whom was the
servant whom Fix had met on the quay.  The other, who was his master,
held out his passport with the request that the consul would do him the
favour to visa it.  The consul took the document and carefully read it,
whilst Fix observed, or rather devoured, the stranger with his eyes
from a corner of the room.

"You are Mr. Phileas Fogg?" said the consul, after reading the passport.

"I am."

"And this man is your servant?"

"He is: a Frenchman, named Passepartout."

"You are from London?"

"Yes."

"And you are going--"

"To Bombay."

"Very good, sir.  You know that a visa is useless, and that no passport
is required?"

"I know it, sir," replied Phileas Fogg; "but I wish to prove, by your
visa, that I came by Suez."

"Very well, sir."

The consul proceeded to sign and date the passport, after which he
added his official seal.  Mr. Fogg paid the customary fee, coldly
bowed, and went out, followed by his servant.

"Well?" queried the detective.

"Well, he looks and acts like a perfectly honest man," replied the
consul.

"Possibly; but that is not the question.  Do you think, consul, that
this phlegmatic gentleman resembles, feature by feature, the robber
whose description I have received?"

"I concede that; but then, you know, all descriptions--"

"I'll make certain of it," interrupted Fix.  "The servant seems to me
less mysterious than the master; besides, he's a Frenchman, and can't
help talking.  Excuse me for a little while, consul."

Fix started off in search of Passepartout.

Meanwhile Mr. Fogg, after leaving the consulate, repaired to the quay,
gave some orders to Passepartout, went off to the    Mongolia in a
boat, and descended to his cabin.  He took up his note-book, which
contained the following memoranda:

"Left London, Wednesday, October 2nd, at 8.45 p.m.  "Reached Paris,
Thursday, October 3rd, at 7.20 a.m.  "Left Paris, Thursday, at 8.40
a.m.  "Reached Turin by Mont Cenis, Friday, October 4th, at 6.35 a.m.
"Left Turin, Friday, at 7.20 a.m.  "Arrived at Brindisi, Saturday,
October 5th, at 4 p.m.  "Sailed on the Mongolia, Saturday, at 5 p.m.
"Reached Suez, Wednesday, October 9th, at 11 a.m.  "Total of hours
spent, 158+; or, in days, six days and a half."

These dates were inscribed in an itinerary divided into columns,
indicating the month, the day of the month, and the day for the
stipulated and actual arrivals at each principal point Paris, Brindisi,
Suez, Bombay, Calcutta, Singapore, Hong Kong, Yokohama, San Francisco,
New York, and London--from the 2nd of October to the 21st of December;
and giving a space for setting down the gain made or the loss suffered
on arrival at each locality.  This methodical record thus contained an
account of everything needed, and Mr. Fogg always knew whether he was
behind-hand or in advance of his time.  On this Friday, October 9th, he
noted his arrival at Suez, and observed that he had as yet neither
gained nor lost.  He sat down quietly to breakfast in his cabin, never
once thinking of inspecting the town, being one of those Englishmen who
are wont to see foreign countries through the eyes of their domestics.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The detective passed down the quay, and made his way to the consuls office. He told the Consul that he thought that the robber was on the Mongolia. The consul said that the robber might not come to the consulate, as it was not necessary to get the passport countersigned. But, Fix feels otherwise and says that he hopes that the Consul will not visa the passport. "Why not? If the passport is genuine I have no right to refuse. " Fix wants to keep the robber here till he can get the warrant. Two strangers enter the Consuls room as Fix and the Consul are conversing, one of who was the servant whom Fix had met on the quay and the other, who was his master, held out his passport with the request that the consul would do him the favor to visa it. The consul took the document and carefully read it, whilst Fix observed from afar. The consul just asked a few questions before agreeing to visa Foggs passport. The consul proceeded to sign and date the passport. Mr. Fogg paid the customary fee, coldly bowed, and went out, followed by his servant. The consul feels that Fogg looks like an honest man and doubts that descriptions can be totally trusted - even if Fogg does look like the robber, he may not be one. Fix decides to find out by getting Passepartout to talk, as he believes that a Frenchman cannot resist opening his mouth. Fix starts off in search of Passepartout. Meanwhile Mr. Fogg, after leaving the consulate, repaired to the quay, gave some orders to Passepartout and went off to the Mongolia. In his cabin, Fogg fed the journey dates into an itinerary divided into columns, indicating the month, the day of the month, and the day for the stipulated and actual arrivals at each principal point - Paris, Brindisi, Suez, Bombay, Calcutta, Singapore, Hong Kong, Yokohama, San Francisco, New York, and London from the 2 nd of October to the 21 st of December. This methodical record thus contained an account of everything needed, and Mr. Fogg always knew whether he was behind or in advance of his time. On this Friday, October 9 th , he noted his arrival at Suez, and observed that he had as yet neither gained nor lost. He sat down quietly to breakfast in his cabin, never once thinking of inspecting the town, being one of those Englishmen who are wont to see foreign countries through the eyes of their domestics.


prompt:
Chapter: Fix soon rejoined Passepartout, who was lounging and looking about on
the quay, as if he did not feel that he, at least, was obliged not to
see anything.

"Well, my friend," said the detective, coming up with him, "is your
passport visaed?"

"Ah, it's you, is it, monsieur?" responded Passepartout.  "Thanks, yes,
the passport is all right."

"And you are looking about you?"

"Yes; but we travel so fast that I seem to be journeying in a dream.
So this is Suez?"

"Yes."

"In Egypt?"

"Certainly, in Egypt."

"And in Africa?"

"In Africa."

"In Africa!" repeated Passepartout.  "Just think, monsieur, I had no
idea that we should go farther than Paris; and all that I saw of Paris
was between twenty minutes past seven and twenty minutes before nine in
the morning, between the Northern and the Lyons stations, through the
windows of a car, and in a driving rain!  How I regret not having seen
once more Pere la Chaise and the circus in the Champs Elysees!"

"You are in a great hurry, then?"

"I am not, but my master is.  By the way, I must buy some shoes and
shirts.  We came away without trunks, only with a carpet-bag."

"I will show you an excellent shop for getting what you want."

"Really, monsieur, you are very kind."

And they walked off together, Passepartout chatting volubly as they
went along.

"Above all," said he; "don't let me lose the steamer."

"You have plenty of time; it's only twelve o'clock."

Passepartout pulled out his big watch.  "Twelve!" he exclaimed; "why,
it's only eight minutes before ten."

"Your watch is slow."

"My watch?  A family watch, monsieur, which has come down from my
great-grandfather!  It doesn't vary five minutes in the year.  It's a
perfect chronometer, look you."

"I see how it is," said Fix.  "You have kept London time, which is two
hours behind that of Suez.  You ought to regulate your watch at noon in
each country."

"I regulate my watch?  Never!"

"Well, then, it will not agree with the sun."

"So much the worse for the sun, monsieur.  The sun will be wrong, then!"

And the worthy fellow returned the watch to its fob with a defiant
gesture.  After a few minutes silence, Fix resumed: "You left London
hastily, then?"

"I rather think so!  Last Friday at eight o'clock in the evening,
Monsieur Fogg came home from his club, and three-quarters of an hour
afterwards we were off."

"But where is your master going?"

"Always straight ahead.  He is going round the world."

"Round the world?" cried Fix.

"Yes, and in eighty days!  He says it is on a wager; but, between us, I
don't believe a word of it.  That wouldn't be common sense.  There's
something else in the wind."

"Ah!  Mr. Fogg is a character, is he?"

"I should say he was."

"Is he rich?"

"No doubt, for he is carrying an enormous sum in brand new banknotes
with him.  And he doesn't spare the money on the way, either: he has
offered a large reward to the engineer of the Mongolia if he gets us to
Bombay well in advance of time."

"And you have known your master a long time?"

"Why, no; I entered his service the very day we left London."

The effect of these replies upon the already suspicious and excited
detective may be imagined.  The hasty departure from London soon after
the robbery; the large sum carried by Mr. Fogg; his eagerness to reach
distant countries; the pretext of an eccentric and foolhardy bet--all
confirmed Fix in his theory.  He continued to pump poor Passepartout,
and learned that he really knew little or nothing of his master, who
lived a solitary existence in London, was said to be rich, though no
one knew whence came his riches, and was mysterious and impenetrable in
his affairs and habits.  Fix felt sure that Phileas Fogg would not land
at Suez, but was really going on to Bombay.

"Is Bombay far from here?" asked Passepartout.

"Pretty far.  It is a ten days' voyage by sea."

"And in what country is Bombay?"

"India."

"In Asia?"

"Certainly."

"The deuce!  I was going to tell you there's one thing that worries
me--my burner!"

"What burner?"

"My gas-burner, which I forgot to turn off, and which is at this moment
burning at my expense.  I have calculated, monsieur, that I lose two
shillings every four and twenty hours, exactly sixpence more than I
earn; and you will understand that the longer our journey--"

Did Fix pay any attention to Passepartout's trouble about the gas?  It
is not probable.  He was not listening, but was cogitating a project.
Passepartout and he had now reached the shop, where Fix left his
companion to make his purchases, after recommending him not to miss the
steamer, and hurried back to the consulate.  Now that he was fully
convinced, Fix had quite recovered his equanimity.

"Consul," said he, "I have no longer any doubt.  I have spotted my man.
He passes himself off as an odd stick who is going round the world in
eighty days."

"Then he's a sharp fellow," returned the consul, "and counts on
returning to London after putting the police of the two countries off
his track."

"We'll see about that," replied Fix.

"But are you not mistaken?"

"I am not mistaken."

"Why was this robber so anxious to prove, by the visa, that he had
passed through Suez?"

"Why?  I have no idea; but listen to me."

He reported in a few words the most important parts of his conversation
with Passepartout.

"In short," said the consul, "appearances are wholly against this man.
And what are you going to do?"

"Send a dispatch to London for a warrant of arrest to be dispatched
instantly to Bombay, take passage on board the Mongolia, follow my
rogue to India, and there, on English ground, arrest him politely, with
my warrant in my hand, and my hand on his shoulder."

Having uttered these words with a cool, careless air, the detective
took leave of the consul, and repaired to the telegraph office, whence
he sent the dispatch which we have seen to the London police office.  A
quarter of an hour later found Fix, with a small bag in his hand,
proceeding on board the Mongolia; and, ere many moments longer, the
noble steamer rode out at full steam upon the waters of the Red Sea.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Fix soon rejoined Passepartout, who was lounging and looking about on the quay. Fix gets Passepartout talking. Passepartout admits that his master and he have been journeying at a frantic pace and that he never gets a chance to sightsee. Fix offers to take Passepartout to the right shops for shoe and shirt shopping. They go off together and Fix points out that Passepartouts watch is slow. The valet replies that his watch is a family watch, come down from the time of his great-grandfather and that it doesnt vary five minutes in the year. To this Fix points out that he had kept London time, which was two hours behind that of Suez. He then advises him to regulate his watch at noon in each country. Passepartout refuses to regulate his watch and returns the watch to its fob with a defiant gesture. After a few minutes silence, Fix resumes the conversation and learns that Fogg was making a journey round the world and that he was a rich man. He also gets to know that Passepartout did not believe that his master was merely making such a journey for the sake of a bet. The effect of these replies upon the already suspicious and excited detective may be imagined. The hasty departure from London soon after the robbery; the large sum carried by Mr. Fogg; his eagerness to reach distant countries; the pretext of an eccentric and foolhardy bet all confirmed Fix in his theory. He continues to pump poor Passepartout, and learns that he really knew little or nothing of his master, who lived a solitary existence in London, was said to be rich, though no one knew whence came his riches, and was mysterious and impenetrable in his affairs and habits. Fix felt sure that Phileas Fogg would not land at Suez, but was really going on to Bombay. When Passepartout spoke to Fix about the gas burner that was burning at his expense, Fix didn't pay any attention to Passepartouts trouble about the gas. He was not listening, but was cogitating a project. Passepartout and he had now reached the shop, where Fix left his companion to make his purchases, after recommending him not to miss the steamer, and hurried back to the consulate. Now that he was fully convinced, Fix had quite recovered his equanimity. Fix tries to persuade the Consul that he has found the robber. He reports in a few words the most important parts of his conversation with Passepartout. He then proceeds to the telegraph office, from where he sends the dispatch, which we have seen, to the London police office. A quarter of an hour later Fix, with a small bag in his hand, advances on board the Mongolia; and the noble steamer rides out at full steam upon the waters of the Red Sea.


prompt:
Chapter: The distance between Suez and Aden is precisely thirteen hundred and
ten miles, and the regulations of the company allow the steamers one
hundred and thirty-eight hours in which to traverse it.  The Mongolia,
thanks to the vigorous exertions of the engineer, seemed likely, so
rapid was her speed, to reach her destination considerably within that
time.  The greater part of the passengers from Brindisi were bound for
India some for Bombay, others for Calcutta by way of Bombay, the
nearest route thither, now that a railway crosses the Indian peninsula.
Among the passengers was a number of officials and military officers of
various grades, the latter being either attached to the regular British
forces or commanding the Sepoy troops, and receiving high salaries ever
since the central government has assumed the powers of the East India
Company: for the sub-lieutenants get 280 pounds, brigadiers, 2,400
pounds, and generals of divisions, 4,000 pounds.  What with the
military men, a number of rich young Englishmen on their travels, and
the hospitable efforts of the purser, the time passed quickly on the
Mongolia.  The best of fare was spread upon the cabin tables at
breakfast, lunch, dinner, and the eight o'clock supper, and the ladies
scrupulously changed their toilets twice a day; and the hours were
whirled away, when the sea was tranquil, with music, dancing, and games.

But the Red Sea is full of caprice, and often boisterous, like most
long and narrow gulfs.  When the wind came from the African or Asian
coast the Mongolia, with her long hull, rolled fearfully.  Then the
ladies speedily disappeared below; the pianos were silent; singing and
dancing suddenly ceased.  Yet the good ship ploughed straight on,
unretarded by wind or wave, towards the straits of Bab-el-Mandeb.  What
was Phileas Fogg doing all this time?  It might be thought that, in his
anxiety, he would be constantly watching the changes of the wind, the
disorderly raging of the billows--every chance, in short, which might
force the Mongolia to slacken her speed, and thus interrupt his
journey.  But, if he thought of these possibilities, he did not betray
the fact by any outward sign.

Always the same impassible member of the Reform Club, whom no incident
could surprise, as unvarying as the ship's chronometers, and seldom
having the curiosity even to go upon the deck, he passed through the
memorable scenes of the Red Sea with cold indifference; did not care to
recognise the historic towns and villages which, along its borders,
raised their picturesque outlines against the sky; and betrayed no fear
of the dangers of the Arabic Gulf, which the old historians always
spoke of with horror, and upon which the ancient navigators never
ventured without propitiating the gods by ample sacrifices.  How did
this eccentric personage pass his time on the Mongolia?  He made his
four hearty meals every day, regardless of the most persistent rolling
and pitching on the part of the steamer; and he played whist
indefatigably, for he had found partners as enthusiastic in the game as
himself.  A tax-collector, on the way to his post at Goa; the Rev.
Decimus Smith, returning to his parish at Bombay; and a
brigadier-general of the English army, who was about to rejoin his
brigade at Benares, made up the party, and, with Mr. Fogg, played whist
by the hour together in absorbing silence.

As for Passepartout, he, too, had escaped sea-sickness, and took his
meals conscientiously in the forward cabin.  He rather enjoyed the
voyage, for he was well fed and well lodged, took a great interest in
the scenes through which they were passing, and consoled himself with
the delusion that his master's whim would end at Bombay.  He was
pleased, on the day after leaving Suez, to find on deck the obliging
person with whom he had walked and chatted on the quays.

"If I am not mistaken," said he, approaching this person, with his most
amiable smile, "you are the gentleman who so kindly volunteered to
guide me at Suez?"

"Ah!  I quite recognise you.  You are the servant of the strange
Englishman--"

"Just so, monsieur--"

"Fix."

"Monsieur Fix," resumed Passepartout, "I'm charmed to find you on
board.  Where are you bound?"

"Like you, to Bombay."

"That's capital!  Have you made this trip before?"

"Several times.  I am one of the agents of the Peninsular Company."

"Then you know India?"

"Why yes," replied Fix, who spoke cautiously.

"A curious place, this India?"

"Oh, very curious.  Mosques, minarets, temples, fakirs, pagodas,
tigers, snakes, elephants!  I hope you will have ample time to see the
sights."

"I hope so, Monsieur Fix.  You see, a man of sound sense ought not to
spend his life jumping from a steamer upon a railway train, and from a
railway train upon a steamer again, pretending to make the tour of the
world in eighty days!  No; all these gymnastics, you may be sure, will
cease at Bombay."

"And Mr. Fogg is getting on well?" asked Fix, in the most natural tone
in the world.

"Quite well, and I too.  I eat like a famished ogre; it's the sea air."

"But I never see your master on deck."

"Never; he hasn't the least curiosity."

"Do you know, Mr. Passepartout, that this pretended tour in eighty days
may conceal some secret errand--perhaps a diplomatic mission?"

"Faith, Monsieur Fix, I assure you I know nothing about it, nor would I
give half a crown to find out."

After this meeting, Passepartout and Fix got into the habit of chatting
together, the latter making it a point to gain the worthy man's
confidence.  He frequently offered him a glass of whiskey or pale ale
in the steamer bar-room, which Passepartout never failed to accept with
graceful alacrity, mentally pronouncing Fix the best of good fellows.

Meanwhile the Mongolia was pushing forward rapidly; on the 13th, Mocha,
surrounded by its ruined walls whereon date-trees were growing, was
sighted, and on the mountains beyond were espied vast coffee-fields.
Passepartout was ravished to behold this celebrated place, and thought
that, with its circular walls and dismantled fort, it looked like an
immense coffee-cup and saucer. The following night they passed through
the Strait of Bab-el-Mandeb, which means in Arabic The Bridge of Tears,
and the next day they put in at Steamer Point, north-west of Aden
harbour, to take in coal.  This matter of fuelling steamers is a
serious one at such distances from the coal-mines; it costs the
Peninsular Company some eight hundred thousand pounds a year.  In these
distant seas, coal is worth three or four pounds sterling a ton.

The Mongolia had still sixteen hundred and fifty miles to traverse
before reaching Bombay, and was obliged to remain four hours at Steamer
Point to coal up.  But this delay, as it was foreseen, did not affect
Phileas Fogg's programme; besides, the Mongolia, instead of reaching
Aden on the morning of the 15th, when she was due, arrived there on the
evening of the 14th, a gain of fifteen hours.

Mr. Fogg and his servant went ashore at Aden to have the passport again
visaed; Fix, unobserved, followed them.  The visa procured, Mr. Fogg
returned on board to resume his former habits; while Passepartout,
according to custom, sauntered about among the mixed population of
Somalis, Banyans, Parsees, Jews, Arabs, and Europeans who comprise the
twenty-five thousand inhabitants of Aden.  He gazed with wonder upon
the fortifications which make this place the Gibraltar of the Indian
Ocean, and the vast cisterns where the English engineers were still at
work, two thousand years after the engineers of Solomon.

"Very curious, very curious," said Passepartout to himself, on
returning to the steamer.  "I see that it is by no means useless to
travel, if a man wants to see something new."  At six p.m.  the
Mongolia slowly moved out of the roadstead, and was soon once more on
the Indian Ocean.  She had a hundred and sixty-eight hours in which to
reach Bombay, and the sea was favourable, the wind being in the
north-west, and all sails aiding the engine.  The steamer rolled but
little, the ladies, in fresh toilets, reappeared on deck, and the
singing and dancing were resumed.  The trip was being accomplished most
successfully, and Passepartout was enchanted with the congenial
companion which chance had secured him in the person of the delightful
Fix.  On Sunday, October 20th, towards noon, they came in sight of the
Indian coast: two hours later the pilot came on board.  A range of
hills lay against the sky in the horizon, and soon the rows of palms
which adorn Bombay came distinctly into view.  The steamer entered the
road formed by the islands in the bay, and at half-past four she hauled
up at the quays of Bombay.

Phileas Fogg was in the act of finishing the thirty-third rubber of the
voyage, and his partner and himself having, by a bold stroke, captured
all thirteen of the tricks, concluded this fine campaign with a
brilliant victory.

The Mongolia was due at Bombay on the 22nd; she arrived on the 20th.
This was a gain to Phileas Fogg of two days since his departure from
London, and he calmly entered the fact in the itinerary, in the column
of gains.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The distance between Suez and Aden is thirteen hundred and ten miles, and the regulations of the company allow the steamers, one hundred and thirty-eight hours in which to traverse it. The Mongolia seemed likely, to reach her destination considerably within that time. Verne describes the nature of the passengers on board who were mostly bound for India - either Bombay or Calcutta. What with the military men, a number of rich young Englishmen on their travels, and the hospitable efforts of the purser, the time passed quickly on the Mongolia. The journey on the Mongolia is described. There are a lot of parties on board, which only cease when there are minor storms on the Red Sea. Phileas Fogg in the meantime was least bothered about the course of the ship and never really went up to the deck to see the various sights of the Red Sea. He passed his time by having four hearty meals every day, regardless of the most persistent rolling and pitching on the part of the steamer; and he played whist indefatigably, for he had found partners as enthusiastic in the game as himself. As for Passepartout, he, too, had escaped seasickness, and took his meals conscientiously in the forward cabin. He rather enjoyed the voyage, for he was well fed and well lodged, took a great interest in the scenes through which they were passing, and consoled himself with the delusion that his masters whim would end at Bombay. He was pleased, on the day after leaving Suez, to find on deck the obliging person with whom he had walked and chatted on the quays. Fix tells Passepartout that he is an agent for the Provinces and that he has made the journey to Bombay often. He casually asks how Fogg is and learns that Passepartout hopes that this mad trip around the world will end at Bombay. After this meeting, Passepartout and Fix got into the habit of chatting together, the latter making it a point to gain the worthy mans confidence. He frequently offered him a glass of whiskey or pale ale in the steamer bar room, which Passepartout never failed to accept with graceful alacrity, mentally pronouncing Fix, the best of good fellows. Meanwhile, the Mongolia was pushing forward rapidly. The Mongolia had still sixteen hundred and fifty miles to traverse before reaching Bombay, and was obliged to remain four hours at Steamer Point to coal up. But this delay, as it was foreseen, did not affect Phileas Foggs program; besides, the Mongolia, instead of reaching Aden on the morning of the 15 th , when she was due, arrived there on the evening of the 14 th , a gain of fifteen hours. Mr. Fogg and his servant went ashore at Aden to have the passport validated again; Fix, followed them. The visa procured, Mr. Fogg returned on board to resume his former habits; while Passepartout, according to custom, sauntered about among the mixed population of Somalis, Banyans, Parsees, Jews, Arabs, and Europeans who comprised the twenty-five thousand inhabitants of Aden. At six p.m. the Mongolia slowly moved out of the roadstead, and was soon once more on the Indian Ocean. The steamer rolled but little, the ladies, in fresh toilets, reappeared on deck, and the singing and dancing were resumed. The trip was being accomplished most successfully, and Passepartout was enchanted with the congenial companion, which chance had secured him in the person of the delightful Fix. On October 20 th , they came in sight of the Indian coast. A range of hills lay against the sky in the horizon, and soon the rows of palms, which adorn Bombay, came distinctly into view. The steamer hauled up at the quays of Bombay. Fogg was in the act of finishing the thirty third rubber of the voyage, and his partner and himself having, by a bold stroke, captured all thirteen of the tricks, concluded this fine campaign with a brilliant victory. The Mongolia was due at Bombay on the 22 nd ; she arrived on the 20 th. This was a gain to Phileas Fogg of two days since his departure from London, and he calmly entered the fact in the itinerary, in the column of gains.