The bus driver remembering him because of the smell, and dried blood, and thinking the guy in the suit was either with the F.B.I. or the police replie..., ‘The fellow your looking for got on, rode for two stops, and got off, heading north. I think the stop was at the corner of 2nd and 3rd.’ ‘Thanks.’ Said the well dressed man, slipping the bus driver a twenty dollar bill, as he exited the bus. Calling the other leaders he said, ‘Damn it, we lost him. He got off at 2nd and 3rd, heading north on. Mr. Fogg said nothing, while Passepartout, abashed, kept repeating that ‘it wasn’t worth telling.’ Aouda pathetically thanked her deliverers, rather with tears than words, her fine eyes interpreted her gratitude better than her lips. Then, as her thoughts strayed back to the scene of the sacrifice, and recalled the dangers which still menaced her, she shuddered with terror. Phileas Fogg understood what was passing in Aouda’s mind, and offered, in order to reassure her, to escort her to Hong. More

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