ona did--else how should I ever ha' been so fond o' Winnie Wynne?
Tell me that,' she said, in an argumentative way as though I had
challenged her speech. 'If I hadn't ha' liked the Gorgios wonst, how
should I ha' been so fond o' Winnie Wynne? An' why don't I like
Gorgios now? Many's the time you've ax'd me that question, an' now's
the time for me to tell you. I know'd the time 'ud come, an' this is
the time to tell you, when you and me and Winnie are a-goin' to part
for ever at the top o' the biggest mountain in the world, this 'ere
blessed Snowdon, as allus did seem somehow to belong to her an' me.
When I wur fond o' the Gorgios,--fonder nor ever Rhona Boswell wur at
that time ('cos she hadn't never met then with the Gorgio she's
a-goin' to die for),--it wur when I war a little chavi, an' didn't
know nothink about dukkeripens at all; but arterwards my mammy told
my dukkeripen out o' the clouds, an' it wur jist this: I wur to
beware o' Gorgios, 'cos a Gorgio would come among the Kaulo Camloes
an' break my heart. An' I says to her, "Mammy dear, afore my heart
shall break for any Gorgio I'll cut it out with this 'ere knife," an'
I draw'd her knife out o' her frock an' put it in my own, and here it
is.' And Sinfi pulled out her knife and showed it to me. 'An' now,
brother, I'm goin' to tell you somethink else, an' what I'm goin' to
tell you'll show we're goin' to part for ever an' ever. As sure as
ever the Golden Hand opened over Winnie Wynne's head an' yourn on
Snowdon, so sure did I feel that you two 'ud be married, even when it
seemed to you that she must he dead. An' as sure as ever my mammy
said I must beware o' Gorgios, so sure was I that you wur the very
Gorgio as wur to break the Romany chi's heart--if that Romany chi's
heart hadn't been Sinfi Lovell's. 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." That's what made me seem so
strange to you at times, thinkin' o' my mammy's words, an' sayin'
"I will, I will." An' now, brother, fare you well.'

'But you must bid Winnie good-bye,' I said, as I saw her returning.

'Better not,' said she. 'You tell her I've changed my min