'Up I goes to her, and I
says, "Why, sister, who's bin a-meddlin' with you? I'll tear the
windpipe out o' anybody wot's been a-meddlin' with you."'
When the girl used the word 'sister' a light broke in upon me.
'Are you Sinfi Lovell?' I cried.
'That jist my name, my rei; but as I said afore, I ain't deaf. Jist
let Jim pass my beer across and don't interrup' me, please.'
'Don't rile her, sir,' whispered the landlord to me; 'she's got the
real witch's eye, and can do you a mischief in a twink, if she likes.
She's a good sort, though, for all that.'
'What are you two a-whisperin' about me?' said the girl in a menacing
tone that seemed to alarm the landlord.
'I was only tellin' the gentleman not to rile you, because you was a
fightin' woman,' said the man.
The Gypsy looked appeased and even gratified at the landlord's
explanation.
'But what did Winnie Wynne do then, Sinfi?' asked the landlord.
'She turns round sharp,' said the Gypsy; 'she looks at me as skeared
as the eyes of a hotchiwitchi [Footnote] as knows he's a-bein'
uncurled for the knife.
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