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Sinfi and I then left the house. In Great Queen Street she took my hand as if to bid me good-bye. But she stood and gazed at me wistfully, and I gazed at her. At last she said, 'An' now, brother, we'll jist go across to Kingston Vale, an' see my daddy, an' set your livin'-waggin to rights. 'Then, Sinfi, I said, 'you and I are once more I stopped and looked at her.
The bungalow delighted Sinfi. 'It's just like a great livin'-waggin, only more comfortable, said she. We spent the entire morning and afternoon there, and much of the next two days. It certainly seemed to me that her mere presence was an immense stimulus to memory in vitalising its one image. 'What's the use o' us a-keepin' a-talkin' about Winnie? Sinfi said to me one day.
He made it for Jericho Bozzell, the rich Griengro as so often stays at Raxton and at Gypsy Dell; but Rhona Bozzell hates a waggin and allus will sleep in a tent. They do say as the Prince o' Wales wants to buy that livin'-waggin, only he can't spare the balansers just now his family bein' so big an' times bein' so bad. How much money ha' you got?
You hadn't been my pal long afore I know'd that. Arter I had been with you a-lookin' for Winnie or fishin' in the brooks, many's the time, when I lay in the tent with the star-light a-shinin' through the chinks in the tent's mouth, that I've said to myself, "The very Gorgio as my mother seed a-comin' to the Lovells when she penned my dukkerin, he's asleep in his livin'-waggin not five yards off."
There's a coachmaker down in Chester, and he's got for sale the beautifullest livin'-waggin in all England. It's shiny orange-yellow with red window-blinds, an' if there's a colour in any rainbow as can't be seed in the panels o' the front door, it's a kind o' rainbow I ain't never seed nowheres.
An' I shall send your livin'-waggin away, reia; yis, I shall send it arter you, Hal, and your two beautiful gries; an' I shall tell my daddy as never conterdicks his chavi in nothink, 'cos she's took the seein' eye from Shuri Lovell I shall tell my dear daddy as no Gorgio and no Gorgie, no lad an' no wench as ever wur bred o' Gorgio blood an' bones, mustn't never live with our breed no more.
You an' me'll jist go down to Chester, she continued, her eyes sparkling with delight at the prospect of bargaining for the waggon, 'an' we'll fix up sich a livin'-waggin as no Romany rei never had afore. 'Agreed! I said, wringing her hand. 'An' now you an' me's right pals, said Sinfi. One of the monthly cheese-fairs was going on in the Linen Hall.
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