"Verne, Jules - Around the World in 80 Days" - читать интересную книгу автора (Verne Jules)

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
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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 begun 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
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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