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Updated: June 22, 2025
'No, no, said she, bringing her lips so close to my face that I felt the breath steaming round my ear. 'Not daddy Videy! Daddy can't keep a secret for five minutes. It's her I'm afeared on. I had scarcely left the door two yards behind me when I heard the voices of the sisters in loud altercation. I heard Sinfi exclaim, 'I sha'n't tell you what I said to him, so now!
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.
The same detestable habit of looking upon nature as a paying market-garden, the same detestable inquiry as to who was the owner of this or that glen or waterfall, was sure at last to make me sever from him. But as to Sinfi, her attitude towards nature, though it was only one of the charms that endeared her to me, was not the least of them.
'What do you think of him? said Sinfi to me, as he passed on and we two sat down on the grass by the side of the stream. 'I am puzzled, I replied, 'to know whether he is a young man who looks like a middle-aged one, or a middle-aged man who looks like a young one. How's his hair under the hat? 'Thinnish atop, said Sinfi laconically.
'Next to the sea, I said, 'she loved the flowers of spring. 'And I should like to be buried here too, brother, said Sinfi, as we left the churchyard. 'But a fine strong girl like you, Sinfi, is not very likely to die unmarried while there are Romany bachelors about.
With the exception of D'Arcy, whose advice as to the disposal of the cross had proclaimed him to be as superstitious as Sinfi herself, not a single friend had I in all London. Cyril Aylwin, whom I had not seen since we parted in Wales, was now on the Continent with Wilderspin. Strange as it may seem, I looked forward with eagerness to the return of this light-hearted jester.
She understood fully now what I meant when I told her that we were betrothed, and again showed that mingling of child-wisdom and poetry which characterised her by suggesting that we should be married on Snowdon, and that her wedding-dress should be the green kirtle and wreath of the fairies, and that her bridesmaids should be her Gypsy friends, Sinfi Lovell and Rhona Boswell.
Don't you mind when we was a-goin' up Snowdon arter Winifred that mornin'? I told you as the rocks, an' the trees, an' the winds, an' the waters cuss us when we goes ag'in the Romany blood an' ag'in the dukkerin' dook. 'You mean conscience, Sinfi.
Tell her that they expect you and her at the inn at Llanberis. Rhona will be there to-night with Winnie's clo'es and things. 'Sinfi, I said, 'I cannot part from you thus. I should be miserable all my days. No man ever had such a noble, self-sacrificing friend as you. I cannot give you up.
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