Phileas Fogg was seated squarely in his armchair, his feet close together like those of a
grenadier on parade, his hands resting on his knees, and his body straight. I was steadily
watching a complicated clock which indicated the hours, the minutes, the seconds, the days,
the months, and the years. This was endless. How much longer would I have to be here? This
was a horrible way to spend a Friday evening.

A: 3rd person limited
B: Third person
C:2nd person
D:1st person