"Jules Verne. Around the World in 80 Days" - читать интересную книгу автора

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."




Chapter III

IN WHICH A CONVERSATION TAKES PLACE WHICH SEEMS LIKELY TO COST
PHILEAS FOGG DEAR