"You low Yankee!" exclaimed Mr. Fogg contemptuously.
"You English beast!" replied the other.
"We shall meet again."
"Whenever you please."
"What is your name?"
"Phileas Fogg; and yours?"
"Colonel Stamp Proctor."
And the tide of humanity swept past, overturning Fix, who, however, speedily regained his feet, and though much dishevelled was not seriously hurt. His overcoat was torn in two, and his trousers were more like those worn by the Indians; but fortunately Aouda had escaped, and Fix only showed any traces of the encounter.
"Thank you," said Mr. Fogg to the detective when they were out of the crowd.
"Don't mention it," replied Fix; "let us go on."