In three minutes he was in Saville Row again, and staggered back into Mr. Fogg's room.
He could not speak.
"What is the matter?" asked Mr. Fogg.
"My master!" gasped Passepartout. "Marriage—impossible—"
"Impossible?"
"Impossible—for tomorrow."
"Why so?"
"Because tomorrow—is Sunday!"
"Monday," replied Mr. Fogg.
"No—today—is Saturday."