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Dover Corporation provides equipment and components, consumable supplies, aftermarket parts, software and digital solutions, and support services worldwide. The Engineered Products segment provides various equipment, component, software, solution, and services that are used in aftermarket vehicle service, solid waste handling, industrial automation, aerospace and defense, industrial winch and hoist, and fluid dispensing end-market. This segment also offers manual and power clamp, rotary and linear mechanical indexer, conveyor, pick and place unit, glove port, and manipulator, as well as end-of-arm robotic gripper, slide, and end effector. Its Clean Energy & Fueling segment offers component, equipment, and software and service solution enabling safe transport of traditional and clean fuel, and other hazardous substance along with supply chain, as well as operation of convenience retail, retail fueling, and vehicle wash establishment. The Imaging and Identification segment provides precision marking and coding; packaging intelligence; product traceability equipment; brand protection; and digital textile printing equipment, as well as related consumable, software, and service to packaged and consumer good, pharmaceutical, industrial manufacturing, fashion and apparel, and other end-market. Its Pumps and Process Solutions segment manufactures specialty pump, connector, and flow meter, fluid connecting solution, plastics and polymer processing equipment, and engineered components for rotating and reciprocating machines. The Climate & Sustainability Technologies segment manufactures refrigeration system, refrigeration display case, commercial glass refrigerator and freezer door, and brazed plate heat exchanger for industrial heating and cooling, and residential climate control applications. It sells its products directly and through a network of distributors. The company was incorporated in 1947 and is headquartered in Downers Grove, Illinois.

Dover

dover

Inspired by French action, British campaigners say they will continue slow tractor protests after Dover roads were blocked

UK farmers vow to mount more blockades over cheap post-Brexit imports | Farming | The Guardian

The Secret of Chimneys by Agatha Christie, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . The House at Dover XXIV. The House at Dover “You don’t mind, I suppose,” said Bundle after a minute or two, “if I drive rather fast? I started later than I meant to do.” It had seemed to Anthony that they were proceeding at a terrific speed already, but he soon saw that that was nothing compared to what Bundle could get out of the Panhard if she tried. “Some people,” said Bundle, as she slowed down momentarily to pass through a village, “are terrified of my driving. Poor old father, for instance. Nothing would induce him to come up with me in this old bus.” Privately, Anthony thought Lord Caterham was entirely justified. Driving with Bundle was not a sport to be indulged in by nervous, middle-aged gentlemen. “But you don’t seem nervous a bit,” continued Bundle approvingly, as she swept round a corner on two wheels. “I’m in pretty good training, you see,” explained Anthony gravely. “Also,” he added, as an afterthought, “I’m rather in a hurry myself.” “Shall I speed her up a bit more?” asked Bundle kindly. “Good Lord, no,” said Anthony hastily. “We’re averaging about fifty as it is.” “I’m burning with curiosity to know the reason of this sudden departure,” said Bundle, after executing a fanfare upon the Klaxon which must temporarily have deafened the neighbourhood. “But I suppose I mustn’t ask? You’re not escaping from justice, are you?” “I’m not quite sure,” said Anthony. “I shall know soon.” “That Scotland Yard man isn’t as much of a rabbit as I thought,” said Bundle thoughtfully. “Battle’s a good man,” agreed Anthony. “You ought to have been in diplomacy,” remarked Bundle. “You don’t part with much information, do you?” “I was under the impression that I babbled.” “Oh! Boy! You’re not eloping with Mademoiselle Brun, by any chance?” “Not guilty!” said Anthony with fervour. There was a pause of some minutes during which Bundle caught up and passed three other cars. Then she asked suddenly: “How long have you known Virginia?” “That’s a difficult question to answer,” said Anthony, with perfect truth. “I haven’t actually met her very often, and yet I seem to have known her a long time.” Bundle nodded. “Virginia’s got brains,” she remarked abruptly. “She’s always talking nonsense, but she’s got brains all right. She was frightfully good out in Herzoslovakia, I believe. If Tim Revel had lived he’d have had a fine career—and mostly owing to Virginia. She worked for him tooth and nail. She did everything in the world she could for him—and I know why, too.” “Because she cared for him?” Anthony sat looking very straight ahead of him. “No, because she didn’t. Don’t you see? She didn’t love him—she never loved him, and so she did everything on earth she could to make up. That’s Virginia all over. But don’t you make any mistake about it. Virginia was never in love with Tim Revel.” “You seem very positive,” said Anthony, turning to look at her. Bundle’s little hands were clenched on the steering wheel, and her chin was stuck out in a determined manner. “I know a thing or two. I was only a kid at the time of her marriage, but I heard one or two things, and knowing Virginia I can put them together easily enough. Tim Revel was bowled over by Virginia—he was Irish, you know, and most attractive, with a genius for expressing himself well. Virginia was quite young—eighteen. She couldn’t go anywhere without seeing Tim in a state of picturesque misery, vowing he’d shoot himself or take to drink if she didn’t marry him. Girls believe these things—or used to—we’ve advanced a lot in the last eight years. Virginia was carried away by the feeling she thought she’d inspired. She married him—and she was an angel to him always. She wouldn’t have been half as much of an angel if she’d loved him. There’s a lot of the devil in Virginia. But I can tell you one thing—she enjoys her freedom. And anyone will have a hard time persuading her to give it up.” “I wonder why you tell me all this?” said Anthony slowly. “It’s interesting to know about people, isn’t it? Some people, that is.” “I’ve wanted to know,” he acknowledged. “And you’d never have heard from Virginia. But you can trust me for an inside tip from the stables. Virginia’s a darling. Even women like her because she isn’t a bit of a cat. And anyway,” Bundle ended, somewhat obscurely, “one must be a sport, mustn’t one?” “Oh, certainly,” Anthony agreed. But he was still puzzled. He had no idea what had prompted Bundle to give him so much information unasked. That he was glad of it, he did not deny. “Here are the trams,” said Bundle, with a sigh. “Now, I suppose, I shall have to drive carefully.” “It might be as well,” agreed Anthony. His ideas and Bundle’s on the subject of careful driving hardly coincided. Leaving indignant suburbs behind them, they finally emerged into Oxford Street. “Not bad going, eh?” said Bundle, glancing at her wrist watch. Anthony assented fervently. “Where do you want to be dropped?” “Anywhere. Which way are you going?” “Knightsbridge way.” “All right, drop me at Hyde Park Corner.” “Good-bye,” said Bundle, as she drew up at the place indicated. “What about the return journey?” “I’ll find my own way back, thanks very much.” “I have scared him,” remarked Bundle. “I shouldn’t recommend driving with you as a tonic for nervous old ladies, but personally I’ve enjoyed it. The last time I was in equal danger was when I was charged by a herd of wild elephants.” “I think you’re extremely rude,” remarked Bundle. “We’ve not even had one bump to-day.” “I’m sorry if you’ve been holding yourself in on my account,” retorted Anthony. “I don’t think men are really very brave,” said Bundle. “That’s a nasty one,” said Anthony. “I retire, humiliated.” Bundle nodded and drove on. Anthony hailed a passing taxi. “Victoria Station,” he said to the driver as he got in. When he got to Victoria he paid off the taxi and inquired for the next train to Dover. Unfortunately he had just missed one. Resigning himself to a wait of something over an hour, Anthony paced up and down, his brows knit. Once or twice he shook his head impatiently. The journey to Dover was uneventful. Arrived there, Anthony passed quickly out of the station, and then, as though suddenly remembering, he turned back again. There was a slight smile on his lips as he asked to be directed to Hurstmere, Langly Road. The road in question was a long one, leading right out of the town. According to the porter’s instructions, Hurstmere was the last house. Anthony trudged along steadily. The little pucker had reappeared between his eyes. Nevertheless there was a new elation in his manner, as always when danger was near at hand. Hurstmere was, as the porter had said, the last house in Langly Road. It stood well back, enclosed in its own grounds, which were ragged and overgrown. The place, Anthony judged, must have been empty for many years. A large iron gate swung rustily on its hinges, and the name on the gatepost was half obliterated. “A lonely spot,” muttered Anthony to himself, “and a good one to choose.” He hesitated a minute or two, glanced quickly up and down the road—which was quite deserted—and then slipped quietly past the creaking gate into the overgrown drive. He walked up it a little way, and then stood listening. He was still some distance from the house. Not a sound could be heard anywhere. Some fast yellowing leaves detached themselves from one of the trees overhead and fell with a soft rustling sound that was almost sinister in the stillness. Anthony started; then smiled. “Nerves,” he murmured to himself. “Never knew I had such things before.” He went on up the drive. Presently, as the drive curved, he slipped into the shrubbery and so continued his way unseen from the house. Suddenly he stood still, peering out through the leaves. Some distance away a dog was barking, but it was a sound nearer at hand that had attracted Anthony’s attention. His keen hearing had not been mistaken. A man came rapidly round the corner of the house, a short square, thickset man, foreign in appearance. He did not pause but walked steadily on, circling the house and disappearing again. Anthony nodded to himself. “Sentry,” he murmured. “They do the thing quite well.” As soon as he had passed, Anthony went on, diverging to the left, and so following in the footsteps of the sentry. His own footsteps were quite noiseless. The wall of the house was on his right, and presently he came to where a broad blur of light fell on the gravelled walk. The sound of several men talking together was clearly audible. “My God! what double-dyed idiots,” murmured Anthony to himself. “It would serve them right to be given a fright.” He stole up to the window, stooping a little so that he should not be seen. Presently he lifted his head very carefully to the level of the sill and looked in. Half a dozen men were sprawling round a table. Four of them were big thickset men, with high cheek-bones, and eyes set in Magyar slanting fashion. The other two were rat-like little men with quick gestures. The language that was being spoken was French, but the four big men spoke it with uncertainty and a hoarse guttural intonation. “The Boss?” growled one of these. “When will he be here?” One of the smaller men shrugged his shoulders. “Any time now.” “About time, too,” growled the first man. “I have never seen him, this Boss of yours, but, oh, what great and glorious work might we not have accomplished in these days of idle waiting!” “Fool,” said the other little man bitingly. “Getting nabbed by the police is all the great and glorious work you and your precious lot would have been likely to accomplish. A lot of blundering gorillas?” “Aha!” roared another big thickset fellow. “You insult the Comrades? I will soon set the sign of the Red Hand round your throat.” He half rose, glaring ferociously at the Frenchman, but one of his companions pulled him back again. “No quarreling,” he grunted. “We’re to work together. From all I heard this King Victor doesn’t stand for being disobeyed.” In the darkness, Anthony heard the footsteps of the sentry coming his round again, and he drew back behind a bush. “Who’s that?” said one of the men inside. “Carlo—going his rounds.” “Oh! What about the prisoner?” “He’s all right—coming round pretty fast now. He’s recovered well from the crack on the head we gave him.” Anthony moved gently away. “God! what a lot,” he muttered. “They discuss their affairs with an open window, and that fool Carlo goes his round with the tread of an elephant, and the eyes of a bat. And to crown all, the Herzoslovakians and the French are on the point of coming to blows. King Victor’s headquarters seem to be in a parlous condition. It would amuse me, it would amuse me very much, to teach them a lesson.” He stood irresolute for a minute, smiling to himself. From somewhere above his head came a stifled groan. Anthony looked up. The groan came again. Anthony glanced quickly from left to right. Carlo was not due round again just yet. He grasped the heavy Virginia creeper and climbed nimbly till he reached the sill of a window. The window was shut, but with a tool from his pocket he soon succeeded in forcing up the catch. He paused a minute to listen, then sprang lightly inside the room. There was a bed in the far corner and on that bed a man was lying, his figure barely discernible in the gloom. Anthony went over to the bed, and flashed his pocket torch on the man’s face. It was a foreign face, pale and emaciated, and the head was swathed in heavy bandages. The man was bound hand and foot. He stared up at Anthony like one dazed. Anthony bent over him, and as he did so he heard a sound behind him and swung round, his hand travelling to his coat pocket. But a sharp command arrested him. “Hands up, sonny. You didn’t expect to see me here, but I happened to catch the same train as you at Victoria.” It was Mr. Hiram Fish who was standing in the doorway. He was smiling and in his hand was a big blue automatic. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Agatha Christie (1998). The Secret of Chimneys. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/65238/pg65238-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html .

The House at Dover

This paper is available on arxiv under CC 4.0 license. Authors: (1) Ayei E. Ibor, Trustworthy Digital Infrastructure for Identity Systems, The Alan Turing Institute, United Kingdom; (2) Mark Hooper, Trustworthy Digital Infrastructure for Identity Systems, The Alan Turing Institute, United Kingdom; (3) Carsten Maple, Trustworthy Digital Infrastructure for Identity Systems, The Alan Turing Institute, United Kingdom; (4) Gregory Epiphaniou, WMG, University of Warwick, United Kingdom. Table of Links Abstract & Introduction Background Review of Literature Methodology Discussion of Findings Conclusion and Future Work & References 6. Conclusion and Future Work Trustworthy interoperability is a key enabler for identity management and widens the dimensions of e-government in developing countries. This research provided insights into the challenges, opportunities, and requirements of interoperability and highlighted the limitations of current interoperability solutions such as the Estonian X-Road and the eIDAS of the European Union. We found that each existing interoperability solution has its benefits and drawbacks, although both are targeted at a common goal. To achieve seamless communication of identification data, we proposed an approach for scoping requirements by first identifying the key processes to identity management in an interoperability context. Furthermore, we addressed the limitations of the current solutions using an architecture that considers the flexibility of identity verification and validation through an interoperable layer that is based on four interacting layers of data representation, semantics, binding, and security and privacy. For future work, an analysis of country-specific use cases for achieving interoperability in the African identity ecosystem will be performed. References African Union, 2020. The Digital Transformation Strategy for Africa (2020-30), Available at https://openresearch-repository.anu.edu.au/bitstream/1885/278587/1/GhaEcon_24.pdf, Accessed 20 May 2023. Alamillo, I., Mouille, S., Rock, A., Soumelidis, N., Tabor, M., Gorniak, S., 2023. Digital identity standards: Analysis of standardisation requirements in support of cybersecurity policy, Available at file:///C:/Users/aIbor/Downloads/Digital_Identity_Standards%20(1).pdf, Accessed 30 July 2023. Aldosary, M. and Alqahtani, N., 2021. A Survey on Federated Identity Management Systems Limitation and Solutions. International Journal of Network Security & Its Applications (IJNSA) Vol, 13. ANSSI, 2023. The EIDAS Regulation, Available at https://www.ssi.gouv.fr/en/regulation/digital-confidence/the-eidas-regulation/, Accessed 09 April 2023. Atick, J., 2016. Digital identity: the essential guide. In ID4Africa Identity Forum (Vol. 2016, pp. 1-3). Backhouse, J. and Halperin, R., 2009. Approaching interoperability for identity management systems. In The Future of Identity in the Information Society (pp. 245-268). Berlin, Heidelberg: Springer Berlin Heidelberg. Bakhtina, M., Matulevičius, R., Awad, A. and Kivimäki, P., 2022. Rebooting Trust Management in X-Road, Public Report. Nordic Institute for Interoperability Solutions (NIIS). Bhattarai, R., Pappel, I., Vainsalu, H., Yahia, S.B. and Draheim, D., 2019. The impact of the single digital gateway regulation from the citizens’ perspective. Procedia Computer Science, 164, pp.159-167. Bandura, R. and Ramanujam, S.R., 2021. Developing inclusive digital payment systems. Center for Strategic and International Studies, 21. Benaddi, H., Laaz, N., Bouhlal, A. and El Kettani, E., 2023. Data storage architecture for egovernment interoperability: Morocco case. Indonesian Journal of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science, 29(3), pp.1678-1686. Catuogno, L. and Galdi, C., 2014. Achieving interoperability between federated identity management systems: A case of study. Journal of High Speed Networks, 20(4), pp.209-221. Colbern, A. and Ramakrishnan, S.K., 2020. Citizenship reimagined: A new framework for state rights in the United States. Cambridge University Press. Cuijpers, C.M.K.C. and Schroers, J., 2014. eIDAS as guideline for the development of a pan European eID framework in FutureID. Domingo, E. and Teevan, C., 2022. Africa’s journey towards an integrated digital payments landscape and how the EU can support it. ECDPM brief, 23. European Commission, 2023a. X-Road Data Exchange Layer, Available at https://joinup.ec.europa.eu/collection/ict-security/solution/x-road-data-exchange-layer/about, Accessed 10 April 2023. European Commission, 2023b. Shaping Europe’s digital future, Available at https://digitalstrategy.ec.europa.eu/en/policies/discover-eidas, Accessed 20 April 2023. Fathalla, E.S., Azab, M., Xin, C. and Wu, H., 2023. PT-SSIM: A Proactive, Trustworthy SelfSovereign Identity Management System. IEEE Internet of Things Journal. Grassi, P.A., Garcia, M.E. and Fenton, J.L., 2017. Digital identity guidelines. NIST special publication, 800, pp.63-3. Gelb, A. and Metz, A.D., 2018. Identification revolution: Can digital ID be harnessed for development?. Brookings Institution Press. Halili, F. and Ramadani, E., 2018. Web services: a comparison of soap and rest services. Modern Applied Science, 12(3), p.175. Hoffmann, T. and Solarte-Vasquez, M.C., 2022. The estonian e-residency programme and its role beyond the country’s digital public sector ecosystem. Revista CES Derecho, 13(2), pp.184-204. Hölbl, M., Kežmah, B. and Kompara, M., 2023. eIDAS Interoperability and Cross-Border Compliance Issues. Mathematics, 11(2), p.430. Hummer, D. and Rebovich, D.J., 2023. Identity theft and financial loss. In Handbook on Crime and Technology (pp. 38-53). Edward Elgar Publishing. Irvin-Erickson, Y., 2023. How Does Immigration Status and Citizenship Affect Identity Theft Victimization Risk in the US? Insights from the 2018 National Crime Victimization Survey Identity Theft Supplement. Victims & Offenders, pp.1-24. Kaaniche, N., Laurent, M. and Belguith, S., 2020. Privacy enhancing technologies for solving the privacy-personalization paradox: Taxonomy and survey. Journal of Network and Computer Applications, 171, p.102807. Kanagwa, B., Nakatumba-Nabende, J., Mugwanya, R., Kigozi Kahiigi, E. and Ngabirano, S., 2018. Towards an interoperability e-government framework for Uganda. In e-Infrastructure and e-Services for Developing Countries: 9th International Conference, AFRICOMM 2017, Lagos, Nigeria, December 11-12, 2017, Proceedings 9 (pp. 16-28). Springer International Publishing. Kiourtis, A., Giannetsos, T., Menesidou, S.A., Mavrogiorgou, A., Symvoulidis, C., GRAZİANİ, A., KLEFTAKİS, S., MAVROGİORGOS, K., ZAFEİROPOULOS, N., GKOLİAS, C.A. and KYRİAZİS, D., 2023. Identity management standards: A literature review. Computers and Informatics, 3(1), pp.35-46. Krimmer, R., Dedovic, S., Schmidt, C. and Corici, A.A., 2021, August. Developing crossborder e-Governance: Exploring interoperability and cross-border integration. In International Conference on Electronic Participation (pp. 107-124). Cham: Springer International Publishing. Kotzé, P. and Alberts, R., 2017. Towards a Conceptual Model for an e-Government Interoperability Framework for South Africa. In ICEIS (3) (pp. 493-506). Lips, S., Bharosa, N. and Draheim, D., 2020. eIDAS implementation challenges: the case of Estonia and the Netherlands. In Electronic Governance and Open Society: Challenges in Eurasia: 7th International Conference, EGOSE 2020, St. Petersburg, Russia, November 18– 19, 2020, Proceedings 7 (pp. 75-89). Springer International Publishing. Luong, D.A. and Park, J.H., 2023. Privacy-Preserving Identity Management System on Blockchain Using Zk-SNARK. IEEE Access, 11, pp.1840-1853. Manda, M. I. and Backhouse, J., "Addressing trust, security and privacy concerns in egovernment integration, interoperability and information sharing through policy: a case of South Africa" (2016). CONF-IRM 2016 Proceedings. Paper 67. http://aisel.aisnet.org/confirm2016/6 Masiero, S., 2023. Digital identity as platform-mediated surveillance. Big Data & Society, 10(1), p.20539517221135176. McBride, K., Kütt, A., Ben Yahia, S. and Draheim, D., 2019, November. On positive feedback loops in digital government architecture. In Proceedings of the 11th International Conference on Management of Digital EcoSystems (pp. 174-180). Mocanu, S., Chiriac, A.M., Popa, C., Dobrescu, R. and Saru, D., 2019. Identification and trust techniques compatible with eIDAS regulation. In Security and Privacy in New Computing Environments: Second EAI International Conference, SPNCE 2019, Tianjin, China, April 13– 14, 2019, Proceedings 2 (pp. 656-665). Springer International Publishing. Pöhn, D. and Hommel, W., 2023. Towards an Improved Taxonomy of Attacks Related to Digital Identities and Identity Management Systems. Security and Communication Networks, 2023. Priisalu, J. and Ottis, R., 2017. Personal control of privacy and data: Estonian experience. Health and technology, 7(4), pp.441-451. Saputro, R., Pappel, I., Vainsalu, H., Lips, S. and Draheim, D., 2020, April. Prerequisites for the adoption of the X-Road interoperability and data exchange framework: a comparative study. In 2020 Seventh International Conference on eDemocracy & eGovernment (ICEDEG) (pp. 216-222). IEEE. Schmidt, C. and Krimmer, R., 2022. How to implement the European digital single market: identifying the catalyst for digital transformation. Journal of European Integration, 44(1), pp.59-80. Sedlmeir, J., Smethurst, R., Rieger, A. and Fridgen, G., 2021. Digital identities and verifiable credentials. Business & Information Systems Engineering, 63(5), pp.603-613. Sharif, A., Ranzi, M., Carbone, R., Sciarretta, G. and Ranise, S., 2022, August. SoK: A Survey on Technological Trends for (pre) Notified eIDAS Electronic Identity Schemes. In Proceedings of the 17th International Conference on Availability, Reliability and Security (pp. 1-10). Sharma, R. and Panigrahi, P.K., 2015. Developing a roadmap for planning and implementation of interoperability capability in e-government. Transforming Government: People, Process and Policy, 9(4), pp.426-447. Solvak, M., Unt, T., Rozgonjuk, D., Võrk, A., Veskimäe, M. and Vassil, K., 2019. Egovernance diffusion: Population level e-service adoption rates and usage patterns. Telematics and Informatics, 36, pp.39-54. Spiliotopoulos, T., Sheik, A.T., Gottardello, D. and Dover, R., 2023. Onboarding Citizens to Digital Identity Systems. arXiv preprint arXiv:2306.13511. Srinivas, J., Das, A.K. and Kumar, N., 2019. Government regulations in cyber security: Framework, standards and recommendations. Future generation computer systems, 92, pp.178-188. Tang, F., Ma, C. and Cheng, K., 2023. Privacy-preserving authentication scheme based on zero trust architecture. Digital Communications and Networks. The World Bank, 2023a. ID4D Global Dataset, Available at https://id4d.worldbank.org/global-dataset, Accessed: 17 July 2023. The World Bank, 2023b. Practitioner’s Guide: Interoperability, Available at https://id4d.worldbank.org/guide/interoperability, Accessed: 22 April 2023. Walters, R., 2023. Theft [Identity]. In Cybersecurity and Data Laws of the Commonwealth: International Trade, Investment and Arbitration (pp. 297-306). Singapore: Springer Nature Singapore. World Bank Group, 2016. ID4D Country Diagnostic: Nigeria, 2016, Available at https://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/136541489666581589/pdf/113567-REPLNigeria-ID4D-Diagnostics-Web.pdf, Accessed 20 May 2023. W3C Recommendation, 2022. Verifiable credentials data model v1.1, Available at https://www.w3.org/TR/vc-data-model/#dfn-credential, Accessed 04 April 2023. World Bank Group, 2018. Guidelines for ID4D Diagnostics, Available at https://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/370121518449921710/Guidelines-for-ID4DDiagnostics.pdf, Accessed: 22 April 2023. X-Road, 2020. X-Road: Message Transport Protocol, Available at https://www.xtee.ee/docs/live/xroad/pr-messtransp_x-road_message_transport_protocol.html, Accessed 12 April 2023. X-Road, 2023a. X-Road Security, Available at https://x-road.global/security, Accessed 03 April 2023. X-Road, 2023b. X-Road Technology Overview, Available at https://x-road.global/x-roadtechnology-overview, Accessed 10 March 2023. X-Road, 2023c. X-Road: Use Case Model for Member Communication, Available at https://docs.x-road.global/UseCases/uc-mess_x-road_member_communication_use_case_model.html#version-history, Accessed 12 April 2023. X-Road, 2023d. Technical Specification: X-Road Architecture, Available at https://docs.xroad.global/Architecture/arc-g_x-road_arhitecture.html#version-history, Accessed 12 April 2023. Yin, J., Xiao, Y., Pei, Q., Ju, Y., Liu, L., Xiao, M. and Wu, C., 2022. SmartDID: a novel privacy-preserving identity based on blockchain for IoT. IEEE Internet of Things Journal, 10(8), pp.6718-6732. This paper is available on under CC 4.0 license. Arxiv

Trustworthy Interoperability and Identity Management Systems: What Comes Next

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THE LIFE OF LEONARDO DA VINCI.

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Our escort had been directed to prepare our abode for the night at the inn

The spirit of emigration crept in among the few survivors

Microsoft v. United States (2016) Court Filing, retrieved on July 14, 2016, is part of . You can jump to any part in this filing . This part is 2 of 22. HackerNoon’s Legal PDF Series here BACKGROUND - I. Microsoft’s Web‐Based E‐mail Service The factual setting in which this dispute arose is largely undisputed and is established primarily by affidavits submitted by or on behalf of the parties. Microsoft Corporation is a United States business incorporated and headquartered in Washington State.  Since 1997, Microsoft has operated a “web‐based e‐mail” service available for public use without charge. Joint Appendix (“J.A.”) at 35.  It calls the most recent iteration of this service Outlook.com.[1]  The service allows Microsoft customers to send and receive correspondence using e‐mail accounts hosted by the company.  In a protocol now broadly familiar to the ordinary citizen, a customer uses a computer to navigate to the Outlook.com web address, and there, after logging in with username and password, conducts correspondence electronically. Microsoft explains that, when it provides customers with web‐based access to e‐mail accounts, it stores the contents of each user’s e‐mails, along with a variety of non‐content information related to the account and to the account’s e‐mail traffic, on a network of servers.[2]  The company’s servers are housed in datacenters operated by it and its subsidiaries.[3] Microsoft currently makes “enterprise cloud service offerings” available to customers in over 100 countries through Microsoft’s “public cloud.”[4]  The service offerings are “segmented into regions, and most customer data (e.g. email, calendar entries, and documents) is generally contained entirely within one or more data centers in the region in which the customer is located.” J.A. at 109.  Microsoft generally stores a customer’s e‐mail information and content at datacenters located near the physical location identified by the user as its own when subscribing to the service.  Microsoft does so, it explains, “in part to reduce ‘network latency’” [5]—i.e., delay—inherent in web‐based computing services and thereby to improve the user’s experience of its service.  J.A. at 36–37.  As of 2014, Microsoft “manage[d] over one million server computers in [its] datacenters worldwide, in over 100 discrete leased and owned datacenter facilities, spread over 40 countries.” Id. at 109. These facilities, it avers, “host more than 200 online services, used by over 1 billion customers and over 20 million businesses worldwide.”  Id. at 109. One of Microsoft’s datacenters is located in Dublin, Ireland, where it is operated by a wholly owned Microsoft subsidiary. According to Microsoft, when its system automatically determines, “based on [the user’s] country code,” that storage for an e‐mail account “should be migrated to the Dublin datacenter,” it transfers the data associated with the account to that location.  Id. at 37.  Before making the transfer, it does not verify user identity or location; it simply takes the user‐provided information at face value, and its systems migrate the data according to company protocol. Under practices in place at the time of these proceedings, once the transfer is complete, Microsoft deletes from its U.S.‐based servers “all content and non‐content information associated with the account in the United States,” retaining only three data sets in its U.S. facilities.  Id. at 37.  First, Microsoft stores some non‐content e‐mail information in a U.S.‐located “data warehouse” that it operates “for testing and quality control purposes.”  Id.  Second, it may store some information about the user’s online address book in a central “address book clearing house” that it maintains in the United States.  Third, it may store some basic account information, including the user’s name and country, in a U.S.‐sited database.  Id. at 37–38. Microsoft asserts that, after the migration is complete, the “only way to access” user data stored in Dublin and associated with one of its customer’s web‐based e‐mail accounts is “from the Dublin datacenter.” Id. at 37.  Although the assertion might be read to imply that a Microsoft employee must be physically present in Ireland to access the user data stored there, this is not so.  Microsoft acknowledges that, by using a database management program that can be accessed at some of its offices in the United States, it can “collect” account data that is stored on any of its servers globally and bring that data into the United States.  Id. at 39–40. [1] The company inaugurated Outlook.com in 2013 as a successor to Microsoft’s earlier Hotmail.com and MSN.com services. [2] A “server” is “a shared computer on a network that provides services to clients.  . . .  An Internet‐connected web server is [a] common example of a server. ”  Harry Newton & Steve Schoen, Newton’s Telecom Dictionary 1084 (28th ed. 2014) (“Newton’s Telecom Dictionary”). [3] A “datacenter” is “[a] centralized location where computing resources (e.g. host computers, servers, peripherals, applications, databases, and network access) critical to an organization are maintained in a highly controlled physical environment (temperature, humidity, etc.).” at 373. Newton’s Telecom Dictionary [4] The Supreme Court has recently described “[c]loud computing” as “the capacity of Internet‐ connected devices to display data stored on remote servers rather than on the device itself.” Riley v. California, 134 S. Ct. 2473, 2491 (2014). [5] Microsoft explains network latency as “the principle of network architecture that the greater the geographical distance between a user and the datacenter where the user’s data is stored, the slower the service.” J.A. at 36. Continue Reading . Here About HackerNoon Legal PDF Series: We bring you the most important technical and insightful public domain court case filings. This court case No. 15–777 retrieved on September 27, 2023, from is part of the public domain. The court-created documents are works of the federal government, and under copyright law, are automatically placed in the public domain and may be shared without legal restriction. cases.justia.com

Microsoft Can Collect and Bring Data Stored on Any of Its Servers Globally Into the US

Can You Forgive Her? by Anthony Trollope is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Lady Monk's Plan here Lady Monk's Plan. On the night of Lady Monk's party, Burgo Fitzgerald disappeared; and when the guests were gone and the rooms were empty, his aunt inquired for him in vain. The old butler and factotum of the house, who was employed by Sir Cosmo to put out the lamps and to see that he was not robbed beyond a certain point on these occasions of his wife's triumphs, was interrogated by his mistress, and said that he thought Mr. Burgo had left the house. Lady Monk herself knocked at her nephew's door, when she went up-stairs, ascending an additional flight of stairs with her weary old limbs in order that she might do so; she even opened the door and saw the careless debris of his toilet about the room. But he was gone. "Perhaps, after all, he has arranged it," she said to herself, as she went down to her own room. But Burgo, as we know, had not "arranged it." It may be remembered that when Mr. Palliser came back to his wife in the supper-room at Lady Monk's, bringing with him the scarf which Lady Glencora had left up-stairs, Burgo was no longer with her. He had become well aware that he had no chance left, at any rate for that night. The poor fool, acting upon his aunt's implied advice rather than his own hopes, had secured a post-chaise, and stationed it in Bruton Street, some five minutes' walk from his aunt's house. And he had purchased feminine wrappings, cloaks, &c.—things that he thought might be necessary for his companion. He had, too, ordered rooms at the new hotel near the Dover Station,—the London Bridge Station,—from whence was to start on the following morning a train to catch the tidal boat for Boulogne. There was a dressing-bag there for which he had paid twenty-five guineas out of his aunt's money, not having been able to induce the tradesman to grant it to him on credit; and there were other things,—slippers, collars, stockings, handkerchiefs, and what else might, as he thought, under such circumstances be most necessary. Poor thoughtful, thoughtless fool! The butler was right. He did leave the house. He saw Lady Glencora taken to her carriage from some back hiding-place in the hall, and then slipped out, unmindful of his shining boots, and dress coat and jewelled studs. He took a Gibus hat,—his own, or that of some other unfortunate,—and slowly made his way down to the place in Bruton Street. There was the carriage and pair of horses, all in readiness; and the driver, when he had placed himself by the door of the vehicle, was not long in emerging from the neighbouring public-house. "All ready, your honour," said the man. "I shan't want you to-night," said Burgo, hoarsely;—"go away." "And about the things, your honour?" "Take them to the devil. No; stop. Take them back with you, and ask somebody to keep them till I send for them. I shall want them and another carriage in a day or two." Then he gave the man half a sovereign, and went away, not looking at the little treasures which he had spent so much of his money in selecting for his love. When he was gone, the waterman and the driver turned them over with careful hands and gloating eyes. "It's a 'eiress, I'll go bail," said the waterman. "Pretty dear! I suppose her parints was too many for her," said the driver. But neither of them imagined the enormity which the hirer of the chaise had in truth contemplated. Burgo from thence took his way back into Grosvenor Square, and from thence down Park Street, and through a narrow passage and a mews which there are in those parts, into Park Lane. He had now passed the position of Mr. Palliser's house, having come out on Park Lane at a spot nearer to Piccadilly; but he retraced his steps, walking along by the rails of the Park, till he found himself opposite to the house. Then he stood there, leaning back upon the railings, and looking up at Lady Glencora's windows. What did he expect to see? Or was he, in truth, moved by love of that kind which can take joy in watching the slightest shadow that is made by the one loved object,—that may be made by her, or, by some violent conjecture of the mind, may be supposed to have been so made? Such love as that is, I think, always innocent. Burgo Fitzgerald did not love like that. I almost doubt whether he can be said to have loved at all. There was in his breast a mixed, feverish desire, which he took no trouble to analyse. He wanted money. He wanted the thing of which this Palliser had robbed him. He wanted revenge,—though his desire for that was not a burning desire. And among other things, he wanted the woman's beauty of the woman whom he coveted. He wanted to kiss her again as he had once kissed her, and to feel that she was soft, and lovely, and loving for him. But as for seeing her shadow, unless its movement indicated some purpose in his favour,—I do not think that he cared much about that. And why then was he there? Because in his unreasoning folly he did not know what step to take, or what step not to take. There are men whose energies hardly ever carry them beyond looking for the thing they want. She might see him from the window, and come to him. I do not say that he thought that it would be so. I fancy that he never thought at all about that or about anything. If you lie under a tree, and open your mouth, a plum may fall into it. It was probably an undefined idea of some such chance as this which brought him against the railings in the front of Mr. Palliser's house; that, and a feeling made up partly of despair and partly of lingering romance that he was better there, out in the night air, under the gas-lamps, than he could be elsewhere. There he stood and looked, and cursed his ill-luck. But his curses had none of the bitterness of those which George Vavasor was always uttering. Through it all there remained about Burgo one honest feeling,—one conviction that was true,—a feeling that it all served him right, and that he had better, perhaps, go to the devil at once, and give nobody any more trouble. If he loved no one sincerely, neither did he hate any one; and whenever he made any self-inquiry into his own circumstances, he always told himself that it was all his own fault. When he cursed his fate, he only did so because cursing is so easy. George Vavasor would have ground his victims up to powder if he knew how; but Burgo Fitzgerald desired to hurt no one. There he stood till he was cold, and then, as the plum did not drop into his mouth, he moved on. He went up into Oxford Street, and walked along it the whole distance to the corner of Bond Street, passing by Grosvenor Square, to which he intended to return. At the corner of Bond Street, a girl took hold of him, and looked up into his face. "Ah!" she said, "I saw you once before."—"Then you saw the most miserable devil alive," said Burgo. "You can't be miserable," said the girl. "What makes you miserable? You've plenty of money."—"I wish I had," said Burgo. "And plenty to eat and drink," exclaimed the girl; "and you are so handsome! I remember you. You gave me supper one night when I was starving. I ain't hungry now. Will you give me a kiss?"—"I'll give you a shilling, and that's better," said Burgo. "But give me a kiss too," said the girl. He gave her first the kiss, and then the shilling, and after that he left her and passed on. "I'm d––––d if I wouldn't change with her!" he said to himself. "I wonder whether anything really ails him?" thought the girl. "He said he was wretched before. Shouldn't I like to be good to such a one as him!" Burgo went on, and made his way into the house in Grosvenor Square, by some means probably unknown to his aunt, and certainly unknown to his uncle. He emptied his pockets as he got into bed, and counted a roll of notes which he had kept in one of them. There were still a hundred and thirty pounds left. Lady Glencora had promised that she would see him again. She had said as much as that quite distinctly. But what use would there be in that if all his money should then be gone? He knew that the keeping of money in his pocket was to him quite an impossibility. Then he thought of his aunt. What should he say to his aunt if he saw her in the course of the coming day? Might it not be as well for him to avoid his aunt altogether? He breakfasted up-stairs in his bedroom,—in the bed, indeed, eating a small paté de foie gras from the supper-table, as he read a French novel. There he was still reading his French novel in bed when his aunt's maid came to him, saying that his aunt wished to see him before she went out. "Tell me, Lucy," said he, "how is the old girl?" "She's as cross as cross, Mr. Burgo. Indeed, I shan't;—not a minute longer. Don't, now; will you? I tell you she's waiting for me." From which it may be seen that Lucy shared the general feminine feeling in favour of poor Burgo. Thus summoned Burgo applied himself to his toilet; but as he did so, he recruited his energies from time to time by a few pages of the French novel, and also by small doses from a bottle of curaçoa which he had in his bedroom. He was utterly a pauper. There was no pauper poorer than he in London that day. But, nevertheless, he breakfasted on paté de foie gras and curaçoa, and regarded those dainties very much as other men regard bread and cheese and beer. But though he was dressing at the summons of his aunt, he had by no means made up his mind that he would go to her. Why should he go to her? What good would it do him? She would not give him more money. She would only scold him for his misconduct. She might, perhaps, turn him out of the house if he did not obey her,—or attempt to do so; but she would be much more likely to do this when he had made her angry by contradicting her. In neither case would he leave the house, even though its further use were positively forbidden him, because his remaining there was convenient; but as he could gain nothing by seeing "the old girl," as he had called her, he resolved to escape to his club without attending to her summons. But his aunt, who was a better general than he, out-manœuvred him. He crept down the back stairs; but as he could not quite condescend to escape through the area, he was forced to emerge upon the hall, and here his aunt pounced upon him, coming out of the breakfast-parlour. "Did not Lucy tell you that I wanted to see you?" Lady Monk asked, with severity in her voice. Burgo replied, with perfect ease, that he was going out just to have his hair washed and brushed. He would have been back in twenty minutes. There was no energy about the poor fellow, unless, perhaps, when he was hunting; but he possessed a readiness which enabled him to lie at a moment's notice with the most perfect ease. Lady Monk did not believe him; but she could not confute him, and therefore she let the lie pass. "Never mind your hair now," she said. "I want to speak to you. Come in here for a few minutes." As there was no way of escape left to him, he followed his aunt into the breakfast-parlour. "Burgo," she said, when she had seated herself, and had made him sit in a chair opposite to her, "I don't think you will ever do any good." "I don't much think I shall, aunt." "What do you mean, then, to do with yourself?" "Oh,—I don't know. I haven't thought much about it." "You can't stay here in this house. Sir Cosmo was speaking to me about you only yesterday morning." "I shall be quite willing to go down to Monkshade, if Sir Cosmo likes it better;—that is, when the season is a little more through." "He won't have you at Monkshade. He won't let you go there again. And he won't have you here. You know that you are turning what I say into joke." "No, indeed, aunt," "Yes, you are;—you know you are. You are the most ungrateful, heartless creature I ever met. You must make up your mind to leave this house at once." "Where does Sir Cosmo mean that I should go, then?" "To the workhouse, if you like. He doesn't care." "I don't suppose he does;—the least in the world," said Burgo, opening his eyes, and stretching his nostrils, and looking into his aunt's face as though he had great ground for indignation. But the turning of Burgo out of the house was not Lady Monk's immediate purpose. She knew that he would hang on there till the season was over. After that he must not be allowed to return again, unless he should have succeeded in a certain enterprise. She had now caught him in order that she might learn whether there was any possible remaining chance of success as to that enterprise. So she received his indignation in silence, and began upon another subject. "What a fool you made of yourself last night, Burgo!" "Did I;—more of a fool than usual?" "I believe that you will never be serious about anything. Why did you go on waltzing in that way when every pair of eyes in the room was watching you?" "I couldn't help going on, if she liked it." "Oh, yes,—say it was her fault. That's so like a man!" "Look here, aunt, I'm not going to sit here and be abused. I couldn't take her in my arms, and fly away with her out of a crowd." "Who wants you to fly away with her?" "For the matter of that, I suppose that you do." "No, I don't." "Well, then, I do." "You! you haven't spirit to do that, or anything else. You are like a child that is just able to amuse itself for the moment, and never can think of anything further. You simply disgraced yourself last night, and me too,—and her; but, of course, you care nothing about that." "I had a plan all ready;—only he came back." "Of course he came back. Of course he came back, when they sent him word how you and she were going on. And now he will have forgiven her, and after that, of course, the thing will be all over." "I tell you what, aunt; she would go if she knew how. When I was forced to leave her last night, she promised to see me again. And as for being idle, and not doing anything;—why, I was out in Park Lane last night, after you were in bed." "What good did that do?" "It didn't do any good, as it happened. But a fellow can only try. I believe, after all, it would be easier down in the country,—especially now that he has taken it into his head to look after her." Lady Monk sat silent for a few moments, and then she said in a low voice, "What did she say to you when you were parting? What were her exact words?" She, at any rate, was not deficient in energy. She was anxious enough to see her purpose accomplished. She would have conducted the matter with discretion, if the running away with Mr. Palliser's wife could, in very fact, have been done by herself. "She said she would see me again. She promised it twice." "And was that all?" "What could she say more, when she was forced to go away?" "Had she said that she would go with you?" "I had asked her,—half a dozen times, and she did not once refuse. I know she means it, if she knew how to get away. She hates him;—I'm sure of it. A woman, you know, wouldn't absolutely say that she would go, till she was gone." "If she really meant it, she would tell you." "I don't think she could have told me plainer. She said she would see me again. She said that twice over." Again Lady Monk sat silent. She had a plan in her head,—a plan that might, as she thought, give to her nephew one more chance. But she hesitated before she could bring herself to explain it in detail. At first she had lent a little aid to this desired abduction of Mr. Palliser's wife, but in lending it had said no word upon the subject. During the last season she had succeeded in getting Lady Glencora to her house in London, and had taken care that Burgo should meet her there. Then a hint or two had been spoken, and Lady Glencora had been asked to Monkshade. Lady Glencora, as we know, did not go to Monkshade, and Lady Monk had then been baffled. But she did not therefore give up the game. Having now thought of it so much, she began to speak of it more boldly, and had procured money for her nephew that he might thereby be enabled to carry off the woman. But though this had been well understood between them, though words had been spoken which were sufficiently explicit, the plan had not been openly discussed. Lady Monk had known nothing of the mode in which Lady Glencora was to have been carried off after her party, nor whither she was to have been taken. But now,—now she must arrange it herself, and have a scheme of her own, or else the thing must fail absolutely. Even she was almost reluctant to speak out plainly to her nephew on such a subject. What if he should be false to her, and tell of her? But when a woman has made such schemes, nothing distresses her so sadly as their failure. She would risk all rather than that Mr. Palliser should keep his wife. "I will try and help you," she said at last, speaking hoarsely, almost in a whisper, "if you have courage to make an attempt yourself." "Courage!" said he "What is it you think I am afraid of? Mr. Palliser? I'd fight him,—or all the Pallisers, one after another, if it would do any good." "Fighting! There's no fighting wanted, as you know well enough. Men don't fight nowadays. Look here! If you can get her to call here some day,—say on Thursday, at three o'clock,—I will be here to receive her; and instead of going back into her carriage, you can have a cab for her somewhere near. She can come, as it were, to make a morning call." "A cab!" "Yes; a cab won't kill her, and it is less easily followed than a carriage." "And where shall we go?" "There is a train to Southampton at four, and the boat sails for Jersey at half-past six; you will be in Jersey the next morning, and there is a boat goes on to St. Malo, almost at once. You can go direct from one boat to the other,—that is, if she has strength and courage." After that, who will say that Lady Monk was not a devoted aunt? "That would do excellently well," said the enraptured Burgo. "She will have difficulty in getting away from me, out of the house. Of course I shall say nothing about it, and shall know nothing about it. She had better tell her coachman to drive somewhere to pick some one up, and to return;—out somewhere to Tyburnia, or down to Pimlico. Then she can leave me, and go out on foot, to where you have the cab. She can tell the hall-porter that she will walk to her carriage. Do you understand?" Burgo declared that he did understand. "You must call on her, and make your way in, and see her, and arrange all this. It must be a Thursday, because of the boats." Then she made inquiry about his money, and took from him the notes which he had, promising to return them, with something added, on the Thursday morning; but he asked, with a little whine, for a five-pound note, and got it. Burgo then told her about the travelling-bags and the stockings, and they were quite pleasant and confidential. "Bid her come in a stout travelling-dress," said Lady Monk. "She can wear some lace or something over it, so that the servants won't observe it. I will take no notice of it." Was there ever such an aunt? After this, Burgo left his aunt, and went away to his club, in a state of most happy excitement. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Anthony Trollope (2006). Can You Forgive Her?. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/19500/pg19500-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

Lady Monk's Plan

I have lingered thus long on the extreme bank

THE HALF-SISTERS.

Phineas Redux by Anthony Trollope, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . ONCE AGAIN IN PORTMAN SQUARE. here ONCE AGAIN IN PORTMAN SQUARE. On the Wednesday in Easter week Lord Brentford and Lady Laura Kennedy reached Portman Square from Dresden, and Phineas, who had remained in town, was summoned thither by a note written at Dover. "We arrived here to-day, and shall be in town to-morrow afternoon, between four and five. Papa wants to see you especially. Can you manage to be with us in the Square at about eight? I know it will be inconvenient, but you will put up with inconvenience. I don't like to keep Papa up late; and if he is tired he won't speak to you as he would if you came early.—L. K." Phineas was engaged to dine with Lord Cantrip; but he wrote to excuse himself,—telling the simple truth. He had been asked to see Lord Brentford on business, and must obey the summons. He was shown into a sitting-room on the ground floor, which he had always known as the Earl's own room, and there he found Lord Brentford alone. The last time he had been there he had come to plead with the Earl on behalf of Lord Chiltern, and the Earl had then been a stern self-willed man, vigorous from a sense of power, and very able to maintain and to express his own feelings. Now he was a broken-down old man,—whose mind had been, as it were, unbooted and put into moral slippers for the remainder of its term of existence upon earth. He half shuffled up out of his chair as Phineas came up to him, and spoke as though every calamity in the world were oppressing him. "Such a passage! Oh, very bad, indeed! I thought it would have been the death of me. Laura thought it better to come on." The fact, however, had been that the Earl had so many objections to staying at Calais, that his daughter had felt herself obliged to yield to him. "You must be glad at any rate to have got home," said Phineas. "Home! I don't know what you call home. I don't suppose I shall ever feel any place to be home again." "You'll go to Saulsby;—will you not?" "How can I tell? If Chiltern would have kept the house up, of course I should have gone there. But he never would do anything like anybody else. Violet wants me to go to that place they've got there, but I shan't do that." "It's a comfortable house." "I hate horses and dogs, and I won't go." There was nothing more to be said on that point. "I hope Lady Laura is well." "No, she's not. How should she be well? She's anything but well. She'll be in directly, but she thought I ought to see you first. I suppose this wretched man is really mad." "I am told so." "He never was anything else since I knew him. What are we to do now? Forster says it won't look well to ask for a separation only because he's insane. He tried to shoot you?" "And very nearly succeeded." "Forster says that if we do anything, all that must come out." "There need not be the slightest hesitation as far as I am concerned, Lord Brentford." "You know he keeps all her money." "At present I suppose he couldn't give it up." "Why not? Why shouldn't he give it up? God bless my soul! Forty thousand pounds and all for nothing. When he married he declared that he didn't care about it! Money was nothing to him! So she lent it to Chiltern." "I remember." "But they hadn't been together a year before he asked for it. Now there it is;—and if she were to die to-morrow it would be lost to the family. Something must be done, you know. I can't let her money go in that way." "You'll do what Mr. Forster suggests, no doubt." "But he won't suggest anything. They never do. He doesn't care what becomes of the money. It never ought to have been given up as it was." "It was settled, I suppose." "Yes;—if there were children. And it will come back to her if he dies first. But mad people never do die. That's a well-known fact. They've nothing to trouble them, and they live for ever. It'll all go to some cousin of his that nobody ever saw." "Not as long as Lady Laura lives." "But she does not get a penny of the income;—not a penny. There never was anything so cruel. He has published all manner of accusations against her." "Nobody believes a word of that, my lord." "And then when she is dragged forward by the necessity of vindicating her character, he goes mad and keeps all her money! There never was anything so cruel since the world began." This continued for half-an-hour, and then Lady Laura came in. Nothing had come, or could have come, from the consultation with the Earl. Had it gone on for another hour, he would simply have continued to grumble, and have persevered in insisting upon the hardships he endured. Lady Laura was in black, and looked sad, and old, and careworn; but she did not seem to be ill. Phineas could not but think at the moment how entirely her youth had passed away from her. She came and sat close by him, and began at once to speak of the late debate. "Of course they'll go out," she said. "I presume they will." "And our party will come in." "Oh, yes;—Mr. Gresham, and the two dukes, and Lord Cantrip,—with Legge Wilson, Sir Harry Coldfoot, and the rest of them." "And you?" Phineas smiled, and tried to smile pleasantly, as he answered, "I don't know that they'll put themselves out by doing very much for me." "They'll do something." "I fancy not. Indeed, Lady Laura, to tell the truth at once, I know that they don't mean to offer me anything." "After making you give up your place in Ireland?" "They didn't make me give it up. I should never dream of using such an argument to any one. Of course I had to judge for myself. There is nothing to be said about it;—only it is so." As he told her this he strove to look light-hearted, and so to speak that she should not see the depth of his disappointment;—but he failed altogether. She knew him too well not to read his whole heart in the matter. "Who has said it?" she asked. "Nobody says things of that kind, and yet one knows." "And why is it?" "How can I say? There are various reasons,—and, perhaps, very good reasons. What I did before makes men think that they can't depend on me. At any rate it is so." "Shall you not speak to Mr. Gresham?" "Certainly not." "What do you say, Papa?" "How can I understand it, my dear? There used to be a kind of honour in these things, but that's all old-fashioned now. Ministers used to think of their political friends; but in these days they only regard their political enemies. If you can make a Minister afraid of you, then it becomes worth his while to buy you up. Most of the young men rise now by making themselves thoroughly disagreeable. Abuse a Minister every night for half a session, and you may be sure to be in office the other half,—if you care about it." "May I speak to Barrington Erle?" asked Lady Laura. "I had rather you did not. Of course I must take it as it comes." "But, my dear Mr. Finn, people do make efforts in such cases. I don't doubt but that at this moment there are a dozen men moving heaven and earth to secure something. No one has more friends than you have." Had not her father been present he would have told her what his friends were doing for him, and how unhappy such interferences made him; but he could not explain all this before the Earl. "I would so much rather hear about yourself," he said, again smiling. "There is but little to say about us. I suppose Papa has told you?" But the Earl had told him nothing, and indeed, there was nothing to tell. The lawyer had advised that Mr. Kennedy's friends should be informed that Lady Laura now intended to live in England, and that they should be invited to make to her some statement as to Mr. Kennedy's condition. If necessary he, on her behalf, would justify her departure from her husband's roof by a reference to the outrageous conduct of which Mr. Kennedy had since been guilty. In regard to Lady Laura's fortune, Mr. Forster said that she could no doubt apply for alimony, and that if the application were pressed at law she would probably obtain it;—but he could not recommend such a step at the present moment. As to the accusation which had been made against her character, and which had become public through the malice of the editor of The People's Banner, Mr. Forster thought that the best refutation would be found in her return to England. At any rate he would advise no further step at the present moment. Should any further libel appear in the columns of the newspaper, then the question might be again considered. Mr. Forster had already been in Portman Square, and this had been the result of the conference. "There is not much comfort in it all,—is there?" said Lady Laura. "There is no comfort in anything," said the Earl. When Phineas took his leave Lady Laura followed him out into the hall, and they went together into the large, gloomy dining-room,—gloomy and silent now, but which in former days he had known to be brilliant with many lights, and cheerful with eager voices. "I must have one word with you," she said, standing close to him against the table, and putting her hand upon his arm. "Amidst all my sorrow, I have been so thankful that he did not—kill you." "I almost wish he had." "Oh, Phineas!—how can you say words so wicked! Would you have had him a murderer?" "A madman is responsible for nothing." "Where should I have been? What should I have done? But of course you do not mean it. You have everything in life before you. Say some word to me more comfortable than that. You cannot think how I have looked forward to meeting you again. It has robbed the last month of half its sadness." He put his arm round her waist and pressed her to his side, but he said nothing. "It was so good of you to go to him as you did. How was he looking?" "Twenty years older than when you saw him last." "But how in health?" "He was thin and haggard." "Was he pale?" "No; flushed and red. He had not shaved himself for days; nor, as I believe, had he been out of his room since he came up to London. I fancy that he will not live long." "Poor fellow;—unhappy man! I was very wrong to marry him, Phineas." "I have never said so;—nor, indeed, thought so." "But I have thought so; and I say it also,—to you. I owe him any reparation that I can make him; but I could not have lived with him. I had no idea, before, that the nature of two human beings could be so unlike. I so often remember what you told me of him,—here; in this house, when I first brought you together. Alas, how sad it has been!" "Sad, indeed." "But can this be true that you tell me of yourself? "It is quite true. I could not say so before your father, but it is Mr. Bonteen's doing. There is no remedy. I am sure of that. I am only afraid that people are interfering for me in a manner that will be as disagreeable to me as it will be useless." "What friends?" she asked. He was still standing with his arm round her waist, and he did not like to mention the name of Madame Goesler. "The Duchess of Omnium,—whom you remember as Lady Glencora Palliser." "Is she a friend of yours?" "No;—not particularly. But she is an indiscreet woman, and hates Bonteen, and has taken it into her stupid head to interest herself in my concerns. It is no doing of mine, and yet I cannot help it." "She will succeed." "I don't want assistance from such a quarter; and I feel sure that she will not succeed." "What will you do, Phineas?" "What shall I do? Carry on the battle as long as I can without getting into debt, and then—vanish." "You vanished once before,—did you not,—with a wife?" "And now I shall vanish alone. My poor little wife! It seems all like a dream. She was so good, so pure, so pretty, so loving!" "Loving! A man's love is so easily transferred;—as easily as a woman's hand;—is it not, Phineas? Say the word, for it is what you are thinking." "I was thinking of no such thing." "You must think it—You need not be afraid to reproach me. I could bear it from you. What could I not bear from you? Oh, Phineas;—if I had only known myself then, as I do now!" "It is too late for regrets," he said. There was something in the words which grated on her feelings, and induced her at length to withdraw herself from his arm. Too late for regrets! She had never told herself that it was not too late. She was the wife of another man, and therefore, surely it was too late. But still the word coming from his mouth was painful to her. It seemed to signify that for him at least the game was all over. "Yes, indeed," she said,—"if our regrets and remorse were at our own disposal! You might as well say that it is too late for unhappiness, too late for weariness, too late for all the misery that comes from a life's disappointment." "I should have said that indulgence in regrets is vain." "That is a scrap of philosophy which I have heard so often before! But we will not quarrel, will we, on the first day of my return?" "I hope not." "And I may speak to Barrington?" "No; certainly not." "But I shall. How can I help it? He will be here to-morrow, and will be full of the coming changes. How should I not mention your name? He knows—not all that has passed, but too much not to be aware of my anxiety. Of course your name will come up?" "What I request,—what I demand is, that you ask no favour for me. Your father will miss you,—will he not? I had better go now." "Good night, Phineas." "Good night, dear friend." "Dearest, dearest friend," she said. Then he left her, and without assistance, let himself out into the square. In her intercourse with him there was a passion the expression of which caused him sorrow and almost dismay. He did not say so even to himself, but he felt that a time might come in which she would resent the coldness of demeanour which it would be imperative upon him to adopt in his intercourse with her. He knew how imprudent he had been to stand there with his arm round her waist. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Anthony Trollope (2006). Phineas Redux. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/18640/pg18640-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

ONCE AGAIN IN PORTMAN SQUARE.

is excited to announce the launch of the CoinMarketCap Plugin for ChatGPT, bringing together the world’s most trusted cryptocurrency data with the world’s most advanced AI chatbot. DOVER, United States, October 11th, 2023/Chainwire/-- CoinMarketCap The base ChatGPT has limited use to crypto enthusiasts, as data is mostly restricted up to Sept 2021. ChatGPT’s recently expanded web scanning capabilities, likewise has limitations in serving real-time crypto data. Through the new CMC-Plugin, users can now gain access to up-to-date data directly sourced from CoinMarketCap, enabling users to keep up with the rapidly changing crypto landscape. Designed to operate as an AI crypto analyst, the plugin is capable of answering complex queries instantly by tapping into CMC’s real-time crypto data, all through simple chat prompts. “How correlated are Bitcoin and Ethereum in 2023?” “Does Bitcoin typically perform better on weekdays or weekends?” “What was Bitcoin's performance in the month leading up to the US elections for the past 3 election cycles?” Questions that once required time-consuming data analysis can now be answered instantly, with the plugin getting smarter over time as it learns from users' queries. David Salamon, CoinMarketCap's Director of Product, shared his excitement: “We're very proud of what we’re delivering with the CoinMarketCap plugin for ChatGPT. Combining AI with a real-time, comprehensive data source like CoinMarketCap will transform the way people do research. It’s like giving every crypto investor their own personal Crypto Analyst. This is v1, there's a lot more to come and we're looking forward to getting feedback from our community. It’s another step forward on our mission to organize the world’s crypto intelligence & make it easily accessible to all” To get started with the CoinMarketCap Plugin on ChatGPT, users need to sign in to their ChatGPT account, enable the CoinMarketCap Plugin (GPT-4), and enter their prompts or questions. Users can learn more about this trail-blazing product here: https://coinmarketcap.com/events/cmc-plugin-chatgpt About CoinMarketCap CoinMarketCap is the world's most-referenced price-tracking website for crypto assets in the rapidly growing cryptocurrency space. Its mission is to make crypto discoverable and efficient globally by empowering retail users with unbiased, high quality and accurate information for drawing their own informed conclusions. Contact Product Bryan Koh CoinMarketCap bryan.k@coinmarketcap.com This story was distributed as a release by Chainwire under HackerNoon’s Brand As An Author Program. Learn more about the program . here

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MRS. HURTLE

Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG ASTOUNDS PASSEPARTOUT, HIS SERVANT here CHAPTER IV. IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG ASTOUNDS PASSEPARTOUT, HIS SERVANT Having won twenty guineas at whist, and taken leave of his friends, Phileas Fogg, at twenty-five minutes past seven, left the Reform Club. Passepartout, who had conscientiously studied the programme of his duties, was more than surprised to see his master guilty of the inexactness of appearing at this unaccustomed hour; for, according to rule, he was not due in Saville Row until precisely midnight. Mr. Fogg repaired to his bedroom, and called out, “Passepartout!” Passepartout did not reply. It could not be he who was called; it was not the right hour. “Passepartout!” repeated Mr. Fogg, without raising his voice. Passepartout made his appearance. “I’ve called you twice,” observed his master. “But it is not midnight,” responded the other, showing his watch. “I know it; I don’t blame you. We start for Dover and Calais in ten minutes.” A puzzled grin overspread Passepartout’s round face; clearly he had not comprehended his master. “Monsieur is going to leave home?” “Yes,” returned Phileas Fogg. “We are going round the world.” Passepartout opened wide his eyes, raised his eyebrows, held up his hands, and seemed about to collapse, so overcome was he with stupefied astonishment. “Round the world!” he murmured. “In eighty days,” responded Mr. Fogg. “So we haven’t a moment to lose.” “But the trunks?” gasped Passepartout, unconsciously swaying his head from right to left. “We’ll have no trunks; only a carpet-bag, with two shirts and three pairs of stockings for me, and the same for you. We’ll buy our clothes on the way. Bring down my mackintosh and traveling-cloak, and some stout shoes, though we shall do little walking. Make haste!” Passepartout tried to reply, but could not. He went out, mounted to his own room, fell into a chair, and muttered: “That’s good, that is! And I, who wanted to remain quiet!” He mechanically set about making the preparations for departure. Around the world in eighty days! Was his master a fool? No. Was this a joke, then? They were going to Dover; good! To Calais; good again! After all, Passepartout, who had been away from France five years, would not be sorry to set foot on his native soil again. Perhaps they would go as far as Paris, and it would do his eyes good to see Paris once more. But surely a gentleman so chary of his steps would stop there; no doubt—but, then, it was none the less true that he was going away, this so domestic person hitherto! By eight o’clock Passepartout had packed the modest carpet-bag, containing the wardrobes of his master and himself; then, still troubled in mind, he carefully shut the door of his room, and descended to Mr. Fogg. Mr. Fogg was quite ready. Under his arm might have been observed a red-bound copy of Bradshaw’s Continental Railway Steam Transit and General Guide, with its timetables showing the arrival and departure of steamers and railways. He took the carpet-bag, opened it, and slipped into it a goodly roll of Bank of England notes, which would pass wherever he might go. “You have forgotten nothing?” asked he. “Nothing, monsieur.” “My mackintosh and cloak?” “Here they are.” “Good! Take this carpet-bag,” handing it to Passepartout. “Take good care of it, for there are twenty thousand pounds in it.” Passepartout nearly dropped the bag, as if the twenty thousand pounds were in gold, and weighed him down. Master and man then descended, the street-door was double-locked, and at the end of Saville Row they took a cab and drove rapidly to Charing Cross. The cab stopped before the railway station at twenty minutes past eight. Passepartout jumped off the box and followed his master, who, after paying the cabman, was about to enter the station, when a poor beggar-woman, with a child in her arms, her naked feet smeared with mud, her head covered with a wretched bonnet, from which hung a tattered feather, and her shoulders shrouded in a ragged shawl, approached, and mournfully asked for alms. Mr. Fogg took out the twenty guineas he had just won at whist, and handed them to the beggar, saying, “Here, my good woman. I’m glad that I met you;” and passed on. Passepartout had a moist sensation about the eyes; his master’s action touched his susceptible heart. Two first-class tickets for Paris having been speedily purchased, Mr. Fogg was crossing the station to the train, when he perceived his five friends of the Reform. “Well, gentlemen,” said he, “I’m off, you see; and, if you will examine my passport when I get back, you will be able to judge whether I have accomplished the journey agreed upon.” “Oh, that would be quite unnecessary, Mr. Fogg,” said Ralph politely. “We will trust your word, as a gentleman of honour.” “You do not forget when you are due in London again?” asked Stuart. “In eighty days; on Saturday, the 21st of December, 1872, at a quarter before nine p.m. Good-bye, gentlemen.” Phileas Fogg and his servant seated themselves in a first-class carriage at twenty minutes before nine; five minutes later the whistle screamed, and the train slowly glided out of the station. The night was dark, and a fine, steady rain was falling. Phileas Fogg, snugly ensconced in his corner, did not open his lips. Passepartout, not yet recovered from his stupefaction, clung mechanically to the carpet-bag, with its enormous treasure. Just as the train was whirling through Sydenham, Passepartout suddenly uttered a cry of despair. “What’s the matter?” asked Mr. Fogg. “Alas! In my hurry—I—I forgot—” “What?” “To turn off the gas in my room!” “Very well, young man,” returned Mr. Fogg, coolly; “it will burn—at your expense.” About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jules Verne (1994). Around the World in Eighty Days. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/103/103-h/103-h.htm This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

IN WHICH PHILEAS FOGG ASTOUNDS PASSEPARTOUT, HIS SERVANT

Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . IN WHICH A CONVERSATION TAKES PLACE WHICH SEEMS LIKELY TO COST PHILEAS FOGG DEAR here CHAPTER III. IN WHICH A CONVERSATION TAKES PLACE WHICH SEEMS LIKELY TO COST PHILEAS FOGG DEAR Phileas Fogg, having shut the door of his house at half-past eleven, and having put his right foot before his left five hundred and seventy-five times, and his left foot before his right five hundred and seventy-six times, reached the Reform Club, an imposing edifice in Pall Mall, which could not have cost less than three millions. He repaired at once to the dining-room, the nine windows of which open upon a tasteful garden, where the trees were already gilded with an autumn colouring; and took his place at the habitual table, the cover of which had already been laid for him. His breakfast consisted of a side-dish, a broiled fish with Reading sauce, a scarlet slice of roast beef garnished with mushrooms, a rhubarb and gooseberry tart, and a morsel of Cheshire cheese, the whole being washed down with several cups of tea, for which the Reform is famous. He rose at thirteen minutes to one, and directed his steps towards the large hall, a sumptuous apartment adorned with lavishly-framed paintings. A flunkey handed him an uncut , which he proceeded to cut with a skill which betrayed familiarity with this delicate operation. The perusal of this paper absorbed Phileas Fogg until a quarter before four, whilst the , his next task, occupied him till the dinner hour. Dinner passed as breakfast had done, and Mr. Fogg re-appeared in the reading-room and sat down to the at twenty minutes before six. Half an hour later several members of the Reform came in and drew up to the fireplace, where a coal fire was steadily burning. They were Mr. Fogg’s usual partners at whist: Andrew Stuart, an engineer; John Sullivan and Samuel Fallentin, bankers; Thomas Flanagan, a brewer; and Gauthier Ralph, one of the Directors of the Bank of England—all rich and highly respectable personages, even in a club which comprises the princes of English trade and finance. Times Standard Pall Mall “Well, Ralph,” said Thomas Flanagan, “what about that robbery?” “Oh,” replied Stuart, “the Bank will lose the money.” “On the contrary,” broke in Ralph, “I hope we may put our hands on the robber. Skilful detectives have been sent to all the principal ports of America and the Continent, and he’ll be a clever fellow if he slips through their fingers.” “But have you got the robber’s description?” asked Stuart. “In the first place, he is no robber at all,” returned Ralph, positively. “What! a fellow who makes off with fifty-five thousand pounds, no robber?” “No.” “Perhaps he’s a manufacturer, then.” “The says that he is a gentleman.” Daily Telegraph It was Phileas Fogg, whose head now emerged from behind his newspapers, who made this remark. He bowed to his friends, and entered into the conversation. The affair which formed its subject, and which was town talk, had occurred three days before at the Bank of England. A package of banknotes, to the value of fifty-five thousand pounds, had been taken from the principal cashier’s table, that functionary being at the moment engaged in registering the receipt of three shillings and sixpence. Of course, he could not have his eyes everywhere. Let it be observed that the Bank of England reposes a touching confidence in the honesty of the public. There are neither guards nor gratings to protect its treasures; gold, silver, banknotes are freely exposed, at the mercy of the first comer. A keen observer of English customs relates that, being in one of the rooms of the Bank one day, he had the curiosity to examine a gold ingot weighing some seven or eight pounds. He took it up, scrutinised it, passed it to his neighbour, he to the next man, and so on until the ingot, going from hand to hand, was transferred to the end of a dark entry; nor did it return to its place for half an hour. Meanwhile, the cashier had not so much as raised his head. But in the present instance things had not gone so smoothly. The package of notes not being found when five o’clock sounded from the ponderous clock in the “drawing office,” the amount was passed to the account of profit and loss. As soon as the robbery was discovered, picked detectives hastened off to Liverpool, Glasgow, Havre, Suez, Brindisi, New York, and other ports, inspired by the proffered reward of two thousand pounds, and five per cent. on the sum that might be recovered. Detectives were also charged with narrowly watching those who arrived at or left London by rail, and a judicial examination was at once entered upon. There were real grounds for supposing, as the said, that the thief did not belong to a professional band. On the day of the robbery a well-dressed gentleman of polished manners, and with a well-to-do air, had been observed going to and fro in the paying room where the crime was committed. A description of him was easily procured and sent to the detectives; and some hopeful spirits, of whom Ralph was one, did not despair of his apprehension. The papers and clubs were full of the affair, and everywhere people were discussing the probabilities of a successful pursuit; and the Reform Club was especially agitated, several of its members being Bank officials. Daily Telegraph Ralph would not concede that the work of the detectives was likely to be in vain, for he thought that the prize offered would greatly stimulate their zeal and activity. But Stuart was far from sharing this confidence; and, as they placed themselves at the whist-table, they continued to argue the matter. Stuart and Flanagan played together, while Phileas Fogg had Fallentin for his partner. As the game proceeded the conversation ceased, excepting between the rubbers, when it revived again. “I maintain,” said Stuart, “that the chances are in favour of the thief, who must be a shrewd fellow.” “Well, but where can he fly to?” asked Ralph. “No country is safe for him.” “Pshaw!” “Where could he go, then?” “Oh, I don’t know that. The world is big enough.” “It was once,” said Phileas Fogg, in a low tone. “Cut, sir,” he added, handing the cards to Thomas Flanagan. The discussion fell during the rubber, after which Stuart took up its thread. “What do you mean by ‘once’? Has the world grown smaller?” “Certainly,” returned Ralph. “I agree with Mr. Fogg. The world has grown smaller, since a man can now go round it ten times more quickly than a hundred years ago. And that is why the search for this thief will be more likely to succeed.” “And also why the thief can get away more easily.” “Be so good as to play, Mr. Stuart,” said Phileas Fogg. But the incredulous Stuart was not convinced, and when the hand was finished, said eagerly: “You have a strange way, Ralph, of proving that the world has grown smaller. So, because you can go round it in three months—” “In eighty days,” interrupted Phileas Fogg. “That is true, gentlemen,” added John Sullivan. “Only eighty days, now that the section between Rothal and Allahabad, on the Great Indian Peninsula Railway, has been opened. Here is the estimate made by the — Daily Telegraph: “Yes, in eighty days!” exclaimed Stuart, who in his excitement made a false deal. “But that doesn’t take into account bad weather, contrary winds, shipwrecks, railway accidents, and so on.” “All included,” returned Phileas Fogg, continuing to play despite the discussion. “But suppose the Hindoos or Indians pull up the rails,” replied Stuart; “suppose they stop the trains, pillage the luggage-vans, and scalp the passengers!” “All included,” calmly retorted Fogg; adding, as he threw down the cards, “Two trumps.” Stuart, whose turn it was to deal, gathered them up, and went on: “You are right, theoretically, Mr. Fogg, but practically—” “Practically also, Mr. Stuart.” “I’d like to see you do it in eighty days.” “It depends on you. Shall we go?” “Heaven preserve me! But I would wager four thousand pounds that such a journey, made under these conditions, is impossible.” “Quite possible, on the contrary,” returned Mr. Fogg. “Well, make it, then!” “The journey round the world in eighty days?” “Yes.” “I should like nothing better.” “When?” “At once. Only I warn you that I shall do it at your expense.” “It’s absurd!” cried Stuart, who was beginning to be annoyed at the persistency of his friend. “Come, let’s go on with the game.” “Deal over again, then,” said Phileas Fogg. “There’s a false deal.” Stuart took up the pack with a feverish hand; then suddenly put them down again. “Well, Mr. Fogg,” said he, “it shall be so: I will wager the four thousand on it.” “Calm yourself, my dear Stuart,” said Fallentin. “It’s only a joke.” “When I say I’ll wager,” returned Stuart, “I mean it.” “All right,” said Mr. Fogg; and, turning to the others, he continued: “I have a deposit of twenty thousand at Baring’s which I will willingly risk upon it.” “Twenty thousand pounds!” cried Sullivan. “Twenty thousand pounds, which you would lose by a single accidental delay!” “The unforeseen does not exist,” quietly replied Phileas Fogg. “But, Mr. Fogg, eighty days are only the estimate of the least possible time in which the journey can be made.” “A well-used minimum suffices for everything.” “But, in order not to exceed it, you must jump mathematically from the trains upon the steamers, and from the steamers upon the trains again.” “I will jump—mathematically.” “You are joking.” “A true Englishman doesn’t joke when he is talking about so serious a thing as a wager,” replied Phileas Fogg, solemnly. “I will bet twenty thousand pounds against anyone who wishes that I will make the tour of the world in eighty days or less; in nineteen hundred and twenty hours, or a hundred and fifteen thousand two hundred minutes. Do you accept?” “We accept,” replied Messrs. Stuart, Fallentin, Sullivan, Flanagan, and Ralph, after consulting each other. “Good,” said Mr. Fogg. “The train leaves for Dover at a quarter before nine. I will take it.” “This very evening?” asked Stuart. “This very evening,” returned Phileas Fogg. He took out and consulted a pocket almanac, and added, “As today is Wednesday, the 2nd of October, I shall be due in London in this very room of the Reform Club, on Saturday, the 21st of December, at a quarter before nine p.m.; or else the twenty thousand pounds, now deposited in my name at Baring’s, will belong to you, in fact and in right, gentlemen. Here is a cheque for the amount.” A memorandum of the wager was at once drawn up and signed by the six parties, during which Phileas Fogg preserved a stoical composure. He certainly did not bet to win, and had only staked the twenty thousand pounds, half of his fortune, because he foresaw that he might have to expend the other half to carry out this difficult, not to say unattainable, project. As for his antagonists, they seemed much agitated; not so much by the value of their stake, as because they had some scruples about betting under conditions so difficult to their friend. The clock struck seven, and the party offered to suspend the game so that Mr. Fogg might make his preparations for departure. “I am quite ready now,” was his tranquil response. “Diamonds are trumps: be so good as to play, gentlemen.” About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jules Verne (1994). Around the World in Eighty Days. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/103/103-h/103-h.htm This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

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