'You know this is
the only way to see the hills. You may ride up the Llanberis side in
a go-cart.'
Racked with anxiety as I was. I found it a relief during the ascent
to listen to the Gypsy's talk about Winifred. She gave me a string of
reminiscences about her that enchained, enchanted, and yet harrowed
me. A strong friendship had already sprung up between me and my
companion; and I was led to tell her about the cross and the curse,
the violation of my father's tomb and its disastrous consequences.
She was evidently much awed by the story.
'Well,' said she, when I had stopped to look round, 'it's my belief
as the cuss is a-workin' now, and'll have to spend itself. If it
could ha' spent itself on the feyther as did the mischief, why all
well an' good, but, you see, he's gone, an' left it to spend itself
on his chavi; jist the way with 'em Gorgio feythers an' Romany
daddies. It'll have to spend itself, though, that cuss will, I'm
afeard.'
'But,' I said, 'you don't mean that you think for her father's crime
she'll have to beg her bread in desolate places.
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