But this wager totally ruined him.
Mr.Fogg's course, however, was fully decided upon; he knew what remained for him to do.
A room in the house in Saville Row was set apart for Aouda, who was overwhelmed with grief at her protector's misfortune.

From the words which Mr.Fogg dropped, she saw that he was meditating some serious project.
Knowing that Englishmen governed by a fixed idea sometimes resort to the desperate expedient of suicide, Passepartout kept a narrow watch upon his master, though he carefully concealed the appearance of so doing.
First of all, the worthy fellow had gone up to his room, and had extinguished the gas burner, which had been burning for eighty days.
He had found in the letter-box a bill from the gas company, and he thought it more than time to put a stop to this expense, which he had been doomed to bear.
The night passed.

Mr.Fogg went to bed, but did he sleep?
Aouda did not once close her eyes.

Passepartout watched all night, like a faithful dog, at his master's door.
Mr.Fogg called him in the morning, and told him to get Aouda's breakfast, and a cup of tea and a chop for himself.

He desired Aouda to excuse him from breakfast and dinner, as his time would be absorbed all day in putting his affairs to rights.