Repentance Avails Not

As she came nearer and nearer I was greatly impressed with her
appearance. Her costume was as suitable and becoming for the occasion
as if it had been an evening dress for a ball, and she wheeled better
than any woman cyclist I ever saw. Her head was erect, her eyes
straight before her, and her motion was rhythm of action.

With my hand on my wheel I moved a few steps towards the middle of the
road. I was about to take off my cap when she turned her eyes upon me.
She even moved her head a little so as to gaze upon me a few seconds
longer. Her face was quiet and serene, her eyes were large, clear, and
observant. In them was not one gleam of recognition. Turning them
again upon the road in front of her, she sped on and away.

For some minutes I stood looking after her, utterly astonished. I do
not think in all my life I had ever been cut like that. What did it
mean? Could she care enough about me to resent my stopping at the
Holly Sprig? Was it possible that she could have known what had been
likely to happen there, and what had happened there? All this was very
improbable, but in Cathay people seemed to know a great many things.
Anyway, she had solved my problem for me. I need give no further
thought to a stop at her father's mansion.

I mounted and rode on, but not rapidly. I was very much moved. My soul
grew warm as I thought of the steady gaze of the eyes which that girl
had fixed upon me. For a mile or so I moved steadily and quietly in a
mood of incensed dignity. I pressed the pedals with a hard and cruel
tread. I did not understand. I could scarcely believe.