Percival blew his nose violently, hoping the chalk would descend to save
him the necessity of answering, but it remained poised in mid-air.
"Anything to declare?" repeated the official, with emphasis.
"Er," said Percival weakly--"nothing that you need worry about--only a few
presents."
"I'll have to trouble you for your keys, then," said the incorruptible.
Percival sighed dismally and produced them. Suddenly he noticed Gillow
declaring his baggage, and became so interested that he failed to perceive
that the official was in difficulties with the lock of his bag.
"This the right key, Sir?" demanded the latter at length.
"Oh, yes," said Percival absently. "But perhaps the bag isn't locked."
The bag wasn't. It opened easily, and the official plunged into a welter of
articles of personal use; but no parcels or dutiable goods came to light.
"P'raps you think it's a joke, wasting my time like this," snorted the
official indignantly. "All I can say is, it's an infernal bad one."
"Awf'lly sorry," said Percival sweetly, as his eye followed Gillow, who had
emerged unchallenged.
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