Instantly I pushed forward to assist
her, but before I could reach her she was on her feet. She made a step
towards her bicycle, which lay in the middle of the road, and then she
stopped and stood still. I saw that she was hurt, but I could not help
a sort of inward smile. "It is the old way of the world," I thought.
"Would the Fates have made that young woman fall from her bicycle if
there had been two men coming along on their wheels?"
As I jumped from my machine and approached her she turned her head and
looked at me. She was a pale girl, and her face was troubled. When I
asked her if she had hurt herself, she spoke to me without the
slightest embarrassment or hesitation.
"I twisted my foot in some way," she said, "and I do not know what I
am going to do. It hurts me to make a step, and I am sure I cannot
work my wheel."
"Have you far to go?" I asked.
"I live about two miles from here," she answered. "I do not think I
have sprained my ankle, but it hurts. Perhaps, however, if I rest for
a little while I may be able to walk.
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