I opened the hateful object which, by its tuberculous knobs, I recognised as the one least often unpacked.  It was there that I expected to find the coat, wrapped democratically round goodness knew how many spare boots, stockings, collars, and other small articles which Locker would never have allowed to come within speaking distance of each other.  But, with the total depravity of inanimate things, the coat had escaped from the hold-all.  In my certainty that I must come upon it sooner or later—­at the bottom of everything, of course—­I scattered the other contents recklessly about; and when at last I gave up the search in despair, the white ground was strewn with the most intimate accessories of my toilet.  Seized with a Berserker rage, I tore open the second hold-all, and before the Boy could utter a cry of protest, more collars, handkerchiefs, brushes, and little horrors of every description peppered the earth.  There were as many things there as the inestimable mother of the Swiss Family Robinson contrived to stow in her wonderful bag during the five minutes before the shipwreck—­things which fulfilled all the wants of the young Robinsons for the period of seventeen years.  But, naturally, the one thing I needed was missing; and now that it was too late, I vaguely recalled seeing that overcoat hanging limply on a peg in the wardrobe of some hotel whose very name I had now forgotten.

If I had been a woman, I should inevitably have burst into tears, and somebody would have comforted me, and everything would immediately have been all right.  As it was, I used several of Innocentina’s most lurid phrases, under my breath, and announced my intention of abandoning my luggage on the mountain-side, rather than attempt the impossible task of feeding it again to the monsters which had disgorged it.

“Poor Man!” exclaimed the Boy.  “Why didn’t you confide to me before, that you were physically and mentally incapable of packing?  I’ve often noticed that your hold-alls looked like overfed boa constrictors, but I didn’t dream things were as bad as this.  You had better let Innocentina and me do the work for you.  We’re what you call ‘nailers’ at it, I assure you.”

I made a snatch at a dressing-gown, which I rescued from the conglomerate heap before he could push me away.  Then, with the garment hung over my arm, I stood by helplessly with Joseph, while Innocentina and the Boy, with incredible swiftness and skill, set about the business from which I had been dismissed.  Somewhat after this fashion must the work of Creation have been done, when there was only Chaos to begin upon.

In five minutes all my scattered horrors had been sorted neatly, according to their species, like the animals forming in procession for the ark; collars after their kind; boots after their kind; and so on, down to the humble shoestring and mean shirt-stud.  Never had those loathsome inventions of an evil mind, my hold-alls, so closely resembled self-respecting members of the luggage fraternity as they did when the Boy and Innocentina had finished with them.