"You have plenty of time; it's only twelve o'clock."

Passepartout pulled out his big watch. "Twelve!" he exclaimed;
"why, it's only eight minutes before ten."

"Your watch is slow."

"My watch? A family watch, monsieur, which has come down from
my great-grandfather! It doesn't vary five minutes in the year.
It's a perfect chronometer, look you."

"I see how it is," said Fix. "You have kept London time,
which is two hours behind that of Suez. You ought to regulate
your watch at noon in each country."

"I regulate my watch? Never!"

"Well, then, it will not agree with the sun."

"So much the worse for the sun, monsieur. The sun will be wrong, then!"

And the worthy fellow returned the watch to its fob with a
defiant gesture. After a few minutes silence, Fix resumed:
"You left London hastily, then?"

"I rather think so! Last Friday at eight o'clock in the evening,
Monsieur Fogg came home from his club, and three-quarters of an hour
afterwards we were off."

"But where is your master going?"