She stared out into the small, wooded area around the residence, and wondered about what she should do, before she felt a pair of arms wrap around her...body, right under her breasts. "Morning beautiful." She heard Annie whisper in her ear, and smiled, before turning a slight shade of pink. Instinctively, Clare put her hands on Annie's, almost like they belonged there. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." Clare said, looking over her shoulder at the older girl. "It's okay. I just wondered where. ’ ‘And Mr. Fogg is getting on well?’ asked Fix, in the most natural tone in the world. ‘Quite well, and I too. I eat like a famished ogre, it’s the sea air.’ ‘But I never see your master on deck.’ ‘Never, he hasn’t the least curiosity.’ ‘Do you know, Mr. Passepartout, that this pretended tour in eighty days may conceal some secret errand—perhaps a diplomatic mission?’ ‘Faith, Monsieur Fix, I assure you I know nothing about it, nor would I give half a crown to find out.’ After this. More

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