It seemed to her that she was standing still, while the trees and houses were racing past her.
Once a farmer's big dog rushed angrily into the road and she swerved until she almost fell, but she regained her balance, and setting her muscles, pedaled as fast as she could.

At last she lifted her head.
Surely it could not be over a mile more.

She had covered two of corduroy and at least three of gravel, and it was only six in all.
She was reeling in the saddle, but she gripped the bars with new energy, and raced desperately.

The sun beat on her bare head and hands.

Just when she was choking with dust, and almost prostrate with heat and exhaustion--crash, she ran into a broken bottle.