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Updated: June 22, 2025
Before I could pass round the easel into the open space I was arrested by overhearing a conversation between Cyril, Sinfi, and Wilderspin. They were talking about her! These are the words I heard: 'Keep your head in that position, Lady Sinfi, said Cyril, 'and pray do not get so excited. 'I thought I felt the Swimmin' Rei in the room, said Sinfi. 'What do you mean? But you see, Mr.
'Reia, said Sinfi, 'you told me wonst as your great-grandmother was a Romany named Fenella Stanley. I have axed the Scollard about her, and what do you think he says? He says that she wur my great-grandmother too, for she married a Lovell as died. 'Good heavens, Sinfi! Well, I'm proud of my kinswoman.
Holywell grew to have a fascination for me, and in the following spring I left the fishing-inn beneath Snowdon, and took rooms in this interesting old town. One day, near the rivulet that runs from St. Winifred's Well, I suddenly encountered Sinfi Lovell. 'Sinfi, I said, 'she's dead, she's surely dead. 'I tell ye, brother, she ain't got to die! said Sinfi, as she came and stood beside me.
In my original perplexity about finding a model for my Zenelophon, I had bethought me of Sinfi Lovell, who, with a friend of hers named Rhona Boswell, sat to Wilderspin, to your cousin, and others. I had made inquiries about Sinfi, but had been told that she was not now to be had, as she had abandoned London altogether, and was settled in Wales.
'We had great difficulty, you remember, Wilderspin, in bringing her round, and afterwards I took her out of the house, put her into a cab, and you directed your servant whither to take her. 'It was scepticism that ruined all. I heard Wilderspin say. 'And yet, said Sinfi, 'the Golden Hand on Snowdon told as he'd marry Winifred Wynne. Ah! surely the Swimmin' Rei is in the room!
'And yit the dukkeripen on Snowdon said, clear and plain enough, as they'd surely marry at last. What's become o' the stolen trúshul, brother the cross? she inquired aloud. But what's it all to me? she said in a tone of suppressed anger that startled me. 'I ain't a Gorgie, 'But, Sinfi, the cross cannot be buried again.
They shall meet again by Knockers' Llyn, where I seed the Golden Hand, and arter that, never shall little Sinfi go agin you, dear. And never no more shall any one on 'em, Gorgio or Gorgie, bring their gries and their beautiful livin'-waggins among tents o' ourn. Never no more shall they jine our breed never no more, never no more. And then my dukkeripen can't come true.
It was not yet dawn when I was aroused from the fitful slumber into which I had at last fallen by a sharp knocking at the door. When I answered the summons by 'All right, Sinfi, and heard her footsteps descend the stairs, the words of Rhona Boswell again came to me. I found that I must return to the bungalow to get my bath.
Sinfi and Rhona both say the Golden Hand brings luck: what is luck? I looked up at the little cloud which to me seemed more like a golden feather than a golden hand. But I soon bent my eyes down again to look at her. While I stood looking at her, the tall figure of a man came out of the church. This was Tom Wynne.
I was determined not to talk about myself till I had felt my way. 'Winnie, dear, I said, 'seeing you is such a surprise, and my illness has left me so weak, that I must wait before talking about myself. I shall be more able to do this after I have learnt more of what has befallen you. You say that Sinfi proposed to bring you to Wales; but where were you when she did so?
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