twenty-nine minutes after
eleven
`` Pardon me , monsieur , it is impossible -- '' `` You are four minutes too slow . No matter . It 's enough to mention the error . Now from this moment , twenty-nine minutes after eleven , A.M. , this Wednesday , the 2nd of October , you are in my service . '' Phileas Fogg got up , took his hat in his left hand , put it on his head with an automatic motion , and went off without a word . Passepartout heard the street door shut once . It was his new master going out .