A little accident while cycling

Harris and his wife were on holiday and cycling through Holland, The wife sat on the tandem behind her husband. The roads were stony and the machine jumped a good deal.
“Sit tight”, said Harris, without turning his head.
Mrs. Harris thought he had said “Jump off”, so she did jump off, while Harris pedalled away hard, thinking that his wife was behind him. At first she thought he was riding up the hill merely (simply) to show off. They were both young in those days, and he used to do that sort of thing. She expected him to jump down when he reached the top of the hill and to wait for her. When, oh the contrary, she saw him pass the summit (top) and then disappear down the other side of the hill, she was seized, first with surprise, secondly with anger, and lastly with alarm. She ran to the top and shouted, but he never turned his head. She watched him vanish (disappear) in a wood a mile and a half і away, and then sat down and cried.
She had no money, she knew no Dutch. People passed and seemed sorry for her; she tried to make them understand what had happened. They thought that she had lost something, but could not’ understand what. They took her to the nearest village and found a policeman for her. He concluded from her pantomime (gestures) that some man had stolen her bicycle. They telegraphed, and discovered, in a village four miles off, an unfortunate boy riding a lady’s bicycle of an old style. They brought the boy to I her, but as she did not want either him or his bicycle, they let him go again.
Meanwhile Harris continued his ride with much enjoyment. It seemed to him that he had suddenly become a stronger, and in every way a more capable cyclist. He said to what he thought was
Mrs. Harris:
“I haven’t felt this machine go so lightly for months. It’s this air, I think; it’s doing me good”.
Then he told her not to be afraid, and he would show her how fast

he could go. The bicycle jumped over the road as if it were alive; farmhouses and churches, dogs and chickens came to him and passed. Old people stood and gazed at him, the children cheered him.
In this way he wenc on for about five miles. Then he suddenly began to feel that something was wrong. He felt behind him with his hand: there was nothing there but space. He jumped, or rather fell off, and looked back up the road; nobody was tnere. He rode back up the hill. In ten minutes he came to the place where the road broke into four. He could not remember which of the four roads he had taken. Harris stopped two men and explained to them that he had lost his wife. The man only laughed at him. So Harris got on his bicycle again and took the middle road on chance.
Soon he met two young women and one young’ man. He asked them if they had seen his wife. They asked him what she looked like. He did not know enough Dutch to describe her properly. He remembered she had been wearing a blue skirt, but he could not recollect the colour of her blouse. The young women giggled. The young man suggested the police-station in the next town.
Harris made his way there. The police told him to give a full description of his wife, together with details of when and where he had lost her. He did not know.
The police looked suspicious; they were doubtful about three matters. Firstly, was she really his wife? Secondly, had he really lost her? Thirdly, why had he lost her? However they promised to look for her, and in the evening they brought her to him, together with a bill for expenses. The meeting of Harris with his wife was not a tender one. Mrs.