about the thing. He could get no sense out of either of them, and
cursing them he mounted his machine again, and took the middle road on
chance. Half-way up, he came upon a party of two young women with one
young man between them. They appeared to be making the most of him. He
asked them if they had seen his wife. They asked him what she was like.
He did not know enough Dutch to describe her properly; all he could tell
them was she was a very beautiful woman, of medium size. Evidently this
did not satisfy them, the description was too general; any man could say
that, and by this means perhaps get possession of a wife that did not
belong to him. They asked him how she was dressed; for the life of him
he could not recollect.

I doubt if any man could tell how any woman was dressed ten minutes after
he had left her. He recollected a blue skirt, and then there was
something that carried the dress on, as it were, up to the neck.
Possibly, this may have been a blouse; he retained a dim vision of a
belt; but what sort of a blouse? Was it green, or yellow, or blue? Had
it a collar, or was it fastened with a bow? Were there feathers in her
hat, or flowers? Or was it a hat at all? He dared not say, for fear of
making a mistake and being sent miles after the wrong party. The two
young women giggled, which in his then state of mind irritated Harris.
The young man, who appeared anxious to get rid of him, suggested the
police station at the next town. Harris made his way there. The police
gave him a piece of paper, and told him to write down a full description
of his wife, together with details of when and where he had lost her. He
did not know where he had lost her; all he could tell them was the name
of the village where he had lunched. He knew he had her with him then,
and that they had started from there together.

The police looked suspicious; they were doubtful about three matters: