That's what the
Romany Sap is.'
'Don't talk like that, Sinfi,' I said; 'you make me feel the sap
myself.'
'It's a sap, Hal, as follows you everywheres, everywheres, till you
feel as you must stop an' face it whatever comes; an' stop you do at
last, an' turn round you must, an' bare your burk you must to the
sharp teeth o' that air wenemous sap.'
'Well, and what then, Sinfi?'
'Well then, when you ha' given up to the thing its fill o' your
blood, then the trees, an' the rocks, an' the winds, an' the waters
seem to know, for everythink seems to begin smilin' ag'in, an' you're
let to go on your way till you do somethin' bad ag'in. That's the
Romany Sap, Hal, an' I won't deny as I sometimes feel its bite pretty
hard here' (pointing to her breast) 'when I thinks what I promised my
poor mammy, an' how I kep' my word to her, when I let a Gorgio come
under our tents.' [Footnote]
[Footnote: To prevent misconceptions, it may be well to say that the
paraphrase of Sinfi's description of the 'Romany Sap,' which appeared
in the writer's reminiscences of George Borrow, was written long
after the main portion of the present narrative.
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