Towards the close of the afternoon I saw a female in front of me, her
back to me, walking, and pushing a bicycle.
"Now," said I to myself, "she is doing that because she likes it, and
it is none of my business." I gazed over the fields on the other side
of the road, but as I passed her I could not help giving a glance at
her machine. The air was gone from the tire of the hind wheel.
"Ah," said I to myself, "perhaps her pump is out of order, or it may
be that she does not know how to work it. It is getting late. She may
have to go a long distance. I could pump it up for her in no time.
Even if there is a hole in it I could mend it." But I did not stop. I
had steeled my heart against any more adventures in Cathay.
But my conscience did not stand by me. I could not forget that poor
woman plodding along the weary road and darkness not far away. I went
slower and slower, and at last I turned.
"It would not take me five minutes to help her," I said. "I must be
careful, but I need not be a churl.
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