She dared not ride the bicycle in the dark. She pushed it across the road until the front wheel hit the bank on the other side. She left it in the ditch and ran on, numb and clumsy and stumbling with cold, her sodden coat flapping round her knees, shuffling her feet along the road in case she missed her footing and stumbled towards the river again. But the road bent away from the river here, the frightening rushing of the water seemed to lessen, and as she shuffled on she raised her head, and there before her was a blessed, glorious sight, the light of the call-box.
From NORTHMEAD NUISANCE, Chapter 14, A Cry for Help, a description of Gail's daring midnight adventure in search of Dr. Wilkinson.