“As I am in the habit of doing.”

“At least,” said Aouda, “want should not overtake a man like you. Your friends — ”

“I have no friends, madam.”

“Your relatives — ”

“I have no longer any relatives.”

“I pity you, then, Mr.

Fogg, for solitude is a sad thing, with no heart to which to confide your griefs. They say, though, that misery itself, shared by two sympathetic souls, may be borne with patience.”

“They say so, madam.”

“Mr. Fogg,” said Aouda, rising and seizing his hand,