“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?”